


By Royal Decree

by debwalsh



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Busy Bucky Barnes, Dirty Talk, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, Intrigue, M/M, Mutual Pining, Omega Bucky Barnes, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 52,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9262823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: When a rival kingdom petitions for the hand of Crown Prince James Barnes because he is an omega, help comes from an unexpected quarter to keep James out of the clutches of the creepy, the pervy, and the icky.But is his rescuer more than just a good friend?  Has he finally found his happily ever after?1Dec17 - Chapter 13, Intermission, is posted!27Nov17 - Chapter 12, I Loved You Once in Silence, is posted!  And yes, the rating changed to Explicit because of this new chapter.23Nov17 - Chapter 11, Lusty Month of May, is posted!





	1. I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> As of November 2017, I'm actively updating the story. I'll shift to a different WIP (On the Air) in December, per the votes of my readers. But if the muse continues to demand attention, I won't say no! I hope you love this story as much as I do!
> 
> Also as of November 2017, the rating for the story is explicit, thanks to chapter 12.

“Dad, come _on_! He’s a creepy old perv who wants nothin’ more than to bend me over a table and shove his dick up my ass!”

“James, language!” admonished his mother, Queen Winifrid I.

“It’s truth, Ma, it ain’t language,” Bucky shot back angrily.

“Don’t snap at your mother, son,” his father, King George VII, chastised him. “And you would not be marrying Regent Pierce, James. You would be betrothed to his Royal Majesty, the crow-“

“Fucking Crown Prince Brock? No. He’s even creepier than Pierce, if that’s possible. There is no way I’m giving it up to that leering lug! You are not selling me off to the House Rumlow!”

“James, we’re not going to sell you off to anyone, dear. But we do need to be thinking about alliances.”

“Marry me off to Rumlow, and I guarantee this kingdom will disappear within the year,” Bucky warned. “The House Rumlow has had its beady little eyes fastened on the House Barnes for generations, you know that, Father.”

“It’s true, but with a marriage, children –“

“No. I will not be bred to a Rumlow, especially not on who pulls the wings off insects and keeps animals only so he can torture them to death –“

“You don’t know that, James –“

“Ser Coulson arranged for a recce in Prince Rumlow’s court a few months ago, Mom. Lady Natasha herself undertook the mission. The report was in your briefing, Dad. I’m guessing you didn’t read that particular one. Tortures animals for fun? I know it for fact.”

“Well, that does cast the situation in a different light, I will admit. I trust Lady Natasha implicitly. Why, pray tell, did Ser Coulson send her?”

“Chatter along the border about House Rumlow eying House Barnes for a hostile takeover. Via marriage.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Might wanna start taking those security briefings a little more seriously, Dad.”

“Well, clearly I don’t have to do if you’re taking such a keen interest.”

“Which would likely end the minute you marry me off to some strategically connected alpha. Y’know, when I get forced to leave House Barnes and go to their court.”

“That is not what we’re doing, James! We’re trying to make sure that you’re well situated, with a proper support system – “

“While you turn over the kingdom to whatever knothead mates my older sister? Seriously, I thought House Barnes was progressive.”

“We are, son. We’re the leader in many efforts to advance our people –“

“Then why are you basing decisions on our designations? I know you’re disappointed you birthed two omega children. But you raised us to be educated, skillful, able to make up our own minds. Why throw that away by marrying us both off to alphas?”

“That’s not what we’re doing, James. We’re making strategic alliances. Much like our parents did in betrothing us to each other when we were young. Children of royal bloodlines don’t have the luxury to marry for love, dear. Life is not romantic poetry. But a good match can lead to a lifetime of pleasant companionship and settled happiness.”

“Oh, wow, just what I want. Settled happiness.”

“Passion fades, James. Bodies grow older, grow weary. But a good companion, a friend for life … these are not things that you should take lightly. They are more precious that the most passionate love affair.”

“Hmm. Ever have one?”

“One what?”

“Passionate love affair?”

His parents looked at each other uneasily, and that was the only confirmation Bucky needed. A passionless life stretched ahead of him, accompanied by a serial killer in the making, or some other knothead with whom he’d no doubt share no interests.

“We still have to decide what to say to Ser Pierce, son.”

“That’s simple. Say no.”

“We don’t want to offend – we don’t want to give the impression that his suit is unwelcome – that could lead to diplomatic complications.”

“Complications. You mean he’d go to war over my lily white ass? Seriously?”

“It’s a matter of appearances, son. He’s the only court to petition your hand –“

“I’m not a damsel to be petitioned for! I’m a grown man and I am not a virgin, Father. I’m capable of fathering children myself – all my parts work just fine, thank you very much. I have some additional capabilities, but they do not define me, sir. I am fully capable of leading this land without a dick shoved up my ass!”

“You’re not … James, have you … with an _alpha_?”

“And if I have …?”

“Well, that does put an entirely new complexion on things,” his father said breathlessly.

“You were planning to sell me as a virgin omega, eh? Sorry to disappoint. I’m an equal opportunity sinner. I’ve lain with men and women, alphas, omegas, and betas. I’m experienced. I’m also an adult, and every partner I’ve had has been a consenting adult. Seriously, Mother, Father – I’m 27 years old. Did you think me stored in amber all these years?”

“I’m not sorry to say I hadn’t given your … sexual … proclivities any thought. A mother does not like to think of her children … that way.”

“Well, hate to break it to you, but I’m not the only non-virgin in the house.”

“Oh. _Oh dear_.”

“Yeah, I guess that kinda puts a speedbump in your plans, huh? For both of us?”

“You’re sure Becca has also –“

“No one told us we weren’t allowed to live our lives, Mom. She’s had lovers, just as I have. We both know how to be discreet, and we’ve both been fortunate that the people we’ve been involved in are first and foremost friends.”

“I don’t suppose any of those friends are of royal birth, James?”

Just then, a throat cleared somewhere in the dark beyond the pool of light James and his parents occupied.

“Oh, my, is someone there?” Queen Winifred called out.

“I apologize, your majesty. I was here in the library before you arrived, and did not know how to make my presence known without embarrassing myself. I did not mean to listen in on such a private family discussion.” Crown Prince Steven Grant Rogers announced his presence as he walked quietly into the light, as well as the company of the Barnes royal family.

“Oh, Steven,” Winifred smiled, opening her arms up to him. “You are such a part of our family, I forget that you are not a member of it.” He stepped into her embrace and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Of course you may join us –“

“ _Ma-a_ ,” Bucky complained with a raised eyebrow.

Steve grinned at him, and Bucky shrugged back. “If I may, I may have a solution, at least a temporary one, to your dilemma. Tell Regent Pierce that Bucky is already betrothed.”

“But he isn’t. Regent Pierce will not doubt take offense when the lie is revealed,” King George replied worriedly.

“Then let it not be a lie. You have fourteen days to respond to the petition. Simply tell Regent Pierce that I submitted my petition before his was received. And that you have accepted.”

“Wait, Steve, are you offering what I think you’re offering –“

“It’s a betrothal, Buck. It’s not an engraved invitation to the wedding chapel next weekend. We get betrothed, we do the whole public thing, let it breathe for a while, and then we announce that by mutual consent, we’re calling off the betrothal – we’re happier being just friends. No harm, no foul, no humiliation for anyone, no cause for war.”

“Hmmm,” King George replied thoughtfully, sitting back in his chair as he slowly stroked his beard, eyes moving slowing between his son and his one-time ward, the Crown Prince of House Rogers. When he’d been very young, Prince Steven had travelled from House Rogers to House Barnes, to live in the kingdom to learn, to grow, and to benefit from the ministrations of the House Barnes healer. Now so many years later, he was tall and strong, his good health a veritable miracle. He often visited and stayed for weeks, while he and Crown Prince James spent time together learning, training, and rabblerousing. James often returned the favor, spending weeks at a time in the House Rogers court. The pair of them often seemed interchangeable, it was true. Sometimes it was hard to remember which prince belonged to which court, the two of them spent so much time together at one or the other courts.

“What would your dear mother think of this, Steven?”

“I think she’d be okay with it, actually. The ties between our two kingdoms run deep, and it would not surprise anyone for us to solidify those ties through marriage.”

“Yes, but is it a strategic alliance? What do either of our kingdoms gain by joining the bloodlines?”

“Two happy princes who won’t get married off for the sake of politics,” Bucky replied, throwing his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I accept, punk. We’ll do the betrothal, have all the parties, let all the courtiers at court gush over how utterly adorable we are, and let all the knights and armsmen and women confirm their fealty to our unified awesomeness. Both our kingdoms can enjoy a time of celebration – it’ll be good for everyone. A royal betrothal can be good for the economy, good for morale. Right, Ma?”

“Well … yes. This could be a boon to both kingdoms. And if we, well, spread the wealth? Around to other kingdoms, create economic ties in support of the betrothal, we might do more good with your betrothal than we might otherwise do with a strategic alliance.” She tilted her head as she considered the possibilities. “Yes, this might be the best solution in many more ways than simply keeping James out of the clutches of a, ‘perv,’ was it, dear?”

“Perv, creep, torturer, yeah. Just ... _icky_. So … we’re all agreed? We all thank Steve for stepping up and being the most awesome best friend a fella could have? Fake betrothed?” he turned his beaming grin on Steve, hugging him tight, missing the slightly pained expression on Steve’s face at the word, “fake.” Steve hid it with a huffed chuckle, and slid his arm around Bucky’s waist, pulling him close, his smile turning more genuine as the King and Queen congratulated him for his quick and remarkable strategic thinking, saying he’d make a great king one day.

&&&


	2. What Do the Simple Folk Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly betrothed share a drink or two, and old secrets are revealed. Except, perhaps, the most important secrets of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter didn't go quite the way I expected, but I'm still okay with it. I hope you are, too.

“Oh, Stevie, that was a stroke of genius!” Bucky was saying as they jostled each other and knocked shoulders good-naturedly on their way back to the royal bed chambers. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it,” Bucky chuckled.

And therein lay the rub. Of course, Bucky hadn’t thought of it. He never thought of Steve in that way. Every guardsman and lady of the sword, every sweet-scented omega and musk-odored alpha, they Bucky would think of that way. But never Steve.

As Bucky looped his arm around Steve’s shoulders – broader now than in the days when Steve first arrived at House Barnes for tuition and treatment all those years ago – and drew Steve tight against his side, Steve fought down the dizzying wave of _want_. Just what torture had he condemned himself to now, in service to the man he called friend, the man from whom he always wanted _more_?

Bucky was still chattering as they hauled up in front of a door, Bucky’s door, and Steve realized that he’d tuned out of the conversation as he soaked up the warmth of Bucky’s body, the disorienting closeness that fueled his desire. “Huh?” he asked, shaking his head. “What’d you say?”

“I said, let’s toast our betrothal with a drink. I have a private stash in my rooms, a sweetberry wine of surprisingly good body from an up and coming vineyard in the south. Just got it the other day from one of the guardsmen. I had a taste, and knew I needed to share it with someone special,” he grinned, eyes dancing with amusement. “Come, my betrothed – drink with me,” he added, looking earnest for a moment before he dissolved into smiles and giggles once more. “Seriously, you look like you’re going to the gallows, not embarking on a bit of fun. Like you said, this isn’t for real – we’ll do up the party circuit, bring a smile to the subjects of both our kingdoms, help boost the economy for one and all, and when the time is right, we’ll announce we’ve determined we are better friends than mates. No one gets hurt, no one loses. We still have each other in the end, and neither of us is pulled into an unwelcome alliance in the meantime. And there might be an opportunity or two to raise awareness that designation isn’t everything. It’s brilliant, Steve. And I don’t have to think about being married off to the Court of Horrors. What would I do without you, huh?” He held out his hand to Steve, and Steve looked at it dumbly for a moment before Bucky reached with his other hand to pull Steve’s hand and place it in the grip of the first. “Drink with me, old friend. Let us celebrate our friendship, if nothing else, hmmm?”

“Our friendship,” Steve repeated, nodding solemnly. “It is a thing of no small import,” he agreed. “Yes.” And he allowed himself to be pulled into Bucky’s chambers.

&&&

Bucky poured two glasses of the delightful southern sweetberry wine, handed one to Steve, and then took a sip of his own before flinging himself onto his very large, very comfortable bed, where he bounced quite pleasantly, his wine sloshing quite artistically, and his best friend watched him quite unbelievingly. As the springs settled beneath him, he smiled more deeply and sipped again at his wine, savoring the flavors bursting across his tongue. He looked at Steve over the rim of his glass, and savored the view. Steve really was devastatingly beautiful, the most remarkable man he’d ever known, sweet and kind and very much not for him. Not that Bucky wouldn’t have Steve; Steve wouldn’t have him, he knew. So the situation he now found himself in, practically betrothed to his beautiful friend, was one he intended to savor like the wine, like the view. He’d never have a chance like this again; he would be a fool to waste any opportunity that presented itself.

He knew he was about to have his heart broken. But he didn’t care.

“So, how are we doing this?” he asked bluntly, a secret smile gracing his lips as he took another sip.

Steve was in the process of sipping his wine as Bucky asked his question, and choked a little, coughing. “Wha-what?”

“How are we doing this? Are we travelling to visit your mother before making the announcement, are we inviting her here? We’d best get the gears moving before my idiot father ends up forgetting we’re agreed, and promises me to some other oafish bore,” Bucky shrugged, cupping his goblet in both hands while watching Steve intently over the glistening rim.

“Ah. Well, I suppose it would be best to go to her. The weather is fine, so the travel should be smooth. And I’m loathe to leave our kingdom without someone of the royal family in charge. Ser Fury is a formidable man, and more than capable. Loyalty beyond question, and he can certainly step into the stewardship, but … I don’t like the idea that House Rumlow is looking to form alliances. The Crown Prince is still years away from his majority. There is no need to establish a betrothal so far in advance. Especially an alpha-omega betrothal. He’s barely more than a child – taking an omega as his spouse is a statement of dominance. Taking an older male omega even more so. It’s untoward. Worse, it’s worrying.”

“Ah. So you didn’t offer just to be my knight errant.”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Buck. But stability among the Houses is important as well. We need to keep House Rumlow relatively sweet for the moment, even if at arms’ length. But we needn’t provide window dressing for such obvious posturing. What amazes me is that your parents didn’t see it for what it is. But our betrothal? It serves me, as well. I know Mother wants to see me wed.”

“We all want to see you happy, Steve,” Bucky shrugged, taking another sip of his wine, his smile fallen away. He should have realized that Steve’s quick mind had parsed the possibilities, drawn conclusions and parallels, and seen the big picture for what it was while he and his family had quibbled over what was really nonsense after all. Steve saw the vector of fate while Bucky had seen inconvenience to himself.

“I am content,” Steve agreed with a faint smile and a nod, then took another sip of his wine.

“There’s more to life than being content, old friend. You should get out there, find someone. It’s been years since you and Peggy called it off.”

Steve chuckled. “Get out there? Find someone? Buck, are you listening to yourself?”

“What? I’m trying to be supportive!”

“If we’re betrothed, there will be no finding of someones. We will be a couple, at least to the world beyond.”

Bucky listened to Steve’s words with dawning horror. Even though the betrothal was fake, he’d have to act as though it were for real, a legitimate commitment to one person, and one person only … “Shit! That means I won’t be able to fuck anyone! No, I can’t do without sex. That’s it, Stevie, you’re going to have to fuck me,” he blurted out before he realized it, clapping his hand across his mouth in horror as he watched, wide-eyed, as Steve’s mouth opened and closed silently, his own eyes wide and his face ashen. “I mean, of course you don’t have to fuck me, not that I’d complain if you did, you are very attractive after all, and my best friend, and I’m surprised we never experimented together, although you were betrothed to Peggy so young – and, oh, fuck me, lord, please still my tongue –“

“I, well, I’m … I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir,” Steve answered brokenly, blushing a deep red as he shook his head. Bucky couldn’t tell if it was laughter, disapproval, or distress that fractured Steve’s voice so.

“Disadvantage? Oh right, you only do other alphas and women.” Bucky quaffed his wine with a mighty gulp, feeling jealousy burn low in his gut. 

“No, I … no,” Steve shook his head, then took a long pull of his drink, draining the glass. Wordlessly, he held out the glass for Bucky to refill.

Rolling to his feet, Bucky picked up the bottle from his nightstand and walked over to stand in front of Steve to fill his glass. When he hit the halfway mark, he made to pull the bottle away, but Steve waved him on. He topped off the glass and stood there, confused, as Steve drank deeply once more, then held the glass up again, eyebrow arched. Bucky shook his head and refilled the glass. “Guess I’m dipping further into the stash tonight.”

“Oh, crap, I’m sorry, was this your only bottle?”

“Nah, got a case, so we’ve got 23 more bottles to go through. Wanna tell me what this is about?” he asked, brandishing the now empty bottle toward Steve and his full glass of wine.

“Not sure I should say,” Steve replied in a small voice.

“If we’re to be betrothed – even fake betrothed – there can be no secrets between us,” Bucky told him archly, even as he kept secrets close to his heart where they could not hurt him. At the panicked look in Steve’s eyes as he stared at him, Bucky broke into a grin. “Kidding! Of course. But what secrets could you have from me after all these years?”

Steve went through a variety of bizarre facial expressions as he seemed to argue with himself, oh so silently. Bucky watched in fascination at the variety of faces his friend made, all tinged with that rosy blush he found so maddeningly attractive. Really, someone should have made Crown Prince Steven Grant Rogers illegal years ago. Bucky had found him adorable from the moment they’d met, at pre-teen, pre-presentation twelve years old, when Steve had been tiny and sickly and practically exploding with an energy Bucky had always found intoxicating. 

That energy seemed to be twisted now, focused inward, and Steve was obviously struggling with something that really bothered him. And this worried Bucky, because other than the obvious, he’d believed that he and Steve really had no secrets from each other.

“Steve, it’s okay. I was just kidding.”

“No, no you’re right. I’ve carried this long enough as it is. But it’s not just my secret to tell.”

“Oh? You’ve been holding out on me?”

“Not precisely. You know how Peggy and I broke off our betrothal, and a while later she and Angie were married.”

“Two alphas, both women, at that, and Angie a commoner. The Houses were up in arms for nearly a year, until Angie presented Peggy with a beautiful daughter of their own. I, of course, was very much in favor of the match – designation prejudice be damned, I say! Let love win!”

Steve smiled then, a genuine smile, and Bucky felt the cold clutching his heart melt away in an instant of the warmth of that smile. “I remember. You thought they were terribly romantic and incredibly brave. And they were. They are. House Carter is the stronger for having them at its head.”

“Of course it is. But what’s that got to do with – oh my God, _you were their beard_! But you and Peggy were together for five years, Steve! And all that time –“

“Peggy and Angie were together, yes. They had to hold on until Peggy was able to convince her parents that the match was a good one. Even though we were both alphas, the fact that we were betrothed did the same thing for Peggy as I’ve offered for you – it kept suitors off her scent, and gave her time to do what she needed to do. King Gabriel was resistant at first, but eventually he came around. And then of course, there was concern over how to get the other Houses to accept such an unconventional pairing. But, eventually they did. And Peggs and Ange are happy – little Rose, too.”

“So you … ?”

“Not once. Not with anyone.” Steve’s glass was empty again, and Bucky rose to fill it with a newly opened bottle.

“But you’re an alpha.”

“And yet, I am a virgin.”

“Well … no. That’s just not acceptable,” Bucky stated emphatically, feeling an odd sense of outrage well inside. “You’ve given everything up for one friend, and here you’re about to do it again?”

“I haven’t given anything up, Buck. I just haven’t indulged.”

“Oh, so because you don’t know what you’re missing, you’re not missing anything?”

“Exactly,” Steve agreed, holding his glass up in toast to the concept, then taking a long swallow, closing his eyes and humming his approval. “This is really quite good. Vineyard in the south, eh? Under which House?”

“Falsworth.”

“Hmm. I wonder if they’re looking for investors. I wouldn’t mind ensuring a steady supply.”

“That’s an excellent idea. Perhaps I shall get that for you as a betrothal gift. But first, we have to address the elephant in the room.”

“There is no elephant in the room, Bucky.”

“But there is. You are a beautiful man. And you have never lain with anyone.”

“That is true.”

“And you will not lay with anyone while we are betrothed. Just as I will not lay with anyone during that time.”

“True again.”

“Then it is clear.”

“Oh?”

“It would be my honor and privilege to lay with you, to be your first.”

“You say that because you are horny.”

“I say that because I –“ and Bucky cut himself off. He’d been about to say, “because I love you.” Learning that Steve had never been with anyone, that he’d spent years with Peggy Carter in a platonic match so she could pursue her beloved, and that Steve was willing to once again postpone his own happiness so that Bucky could avoid a sticky situation … no. The world was unfair, but this was taking it beyond extreme. “I say that because I want you to know happiness, my friend. You are too unselfish for your own good. It needn’t mean anything more than a friendly gift from one who … from one who loves you,” Bucky concluded, swallowing hard around the words.

And did he imagine the slight gasp from Steve, the hopeful glance when he’d said the word “love”? Perhaps, because his hopes were dashed in the next moment.

“I … it’s a lovely gesture, Buck. But this is a … kindness … that I don’t require of you. My offer to be betrothed comes without strings. Perhaps you can arrange for discreet … companionship … to slake your thirst during the betrothal. As you say, I cannot miss what I have not had.” With that, Steve rose suddenly, placed his goblet on the little table nearby, and nodded, turning toward the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, and said over his shoulder, “Good night, Buck. We can talk tomorrow of riding to House Rogers to let my mother know of the betrothal and its terms.”

And then he was gone, leaving Bucky feeling that he’d done something truly horrible to their longstanding friendship. He still stood with the bottle in his hand, and he looked at it like it was an alien thing. There were tears pricking at his eyes when he restoppered the bottle and set it back in the crate, then flung himself back on the bed to mull over everything he’d just done wrong.

They’d be travelling to House Rogers shortly. He would have to find a way to make a discreet visit to House Carter in the very near future, too.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little sadder than I expected the chapter to be, especially after the sass-fest of chapter 1. But I think enough of Bucky's personality bled through. 
> 
> Ah, if only these boys could learn to actually use their words. In any incarnation. :)
> 
> More to come!


	3. Follow Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which plans are made, and intrigues abound ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some plot with your romance!

Steve left the overwhelming atmosphere of Bucky’s luxurious room feeling anxious and depressed. Of course his old friend would offer to have meaningless sex with him. He might couch it as a gift “from one who loves” him, but it is simply sex, not the relationship that Steve has longed for. He doesn’t care to be another notch on Bucky’s headboard. He wasn’t the first that Bucky loved, he knew. And God knew, there have been plenty who’ve enjoyed their moment in the heat of Bucky’s embrace. He was truly an equal opportunity sinner, but was it a sin when all he sought was pleasure for all concerned? There was never anything selfish or malicious about Bucky’s assignations, his dalliances. They just never lasted much longer than the next sunrise.

No, Steve wasn’t his first, nor his hundredth. But if he couldn’t be the last, he’d rather nothing at all.

And he’d never set out to live the life of an apostolic. There’d been no vow of celibacy, no determined choice to hold himself pure. He’d simply … fallen into it. He’d realized at a young age that his friend Peggy had need of the screen of an alpha male, and he’d offered himself up willingly, happily. He’d been, after all, a little in love with her then, even as he was now. It was no hardship to let people think he loved her since it was true. And he’d known of Peggy and Angie’s forbidden love, their need for delicacy and discretion. And it had all been worthwhile in the end, when Peggy finally won the right to marry her beloved, regardless of designation, regardless of social ranking. 

Peggy and Angie were among his closest friends, and they, too, had been willing to share their bed with him. He’d really had no scarcity of willing and loving partners, but none had offered more than a moment of pleasure. None had ever offered together, a forever all his own. And now, at age 27, he was yet a virgin, and that first time suddenly seemed to loom so much larger, with so much more at stake.

And truly, having never experienced the carnal pleasures, he didn’t know what he was missing, and so he missed nothing.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t imagine, couldn’t dream. Couldn’t lose himself in heated fantasies that centered solely on his childhood friend. The man he’d just committed to play at being betrothed.

Steve had a death wish, that’s all there was to it. He’d suffer death by Bucky. And yet, he could not allow his loving friend to be condemned to a loveless, lightless marriage at the whim of the monster child, Rumlow. Worse, to live life in the shadow court under the beady and avaricious eye of Regent Pierce.

And he’d told Bucky the truth when he’d voiced his concerns about the House Rumlow’s aspirations. Most saw him as the studious ex-ward of King George of House Barnes. Little did they realize that he was Captain Rogers of the Royal Guard of House Rogers, and his visits to the court of Barnes were less about their library or wine cellar, and more about the inter-kingdom gossip he could hear outside his own kingdom, and crossroads meetings he could enjoy without arousing suspicion. And he’d heard enough recently about House Rumlow to be truly concerned, both from scullery gossips and intelligence sources.

So the trip he’d suggested to return home to break the news of the fake betrothal to his mother would be more than just meeting a familial obligation. He had intelligence to gather, and warnings to share with courts friendly to their own. There was a coalition to build, and the mask of the besotted betrothed was perfect for his purposes.

At least part of his guise would be true. He’d been besotted since the day he’d stepped through the threshold of House Barnes, to be met by the mischievous glint in those storm swept eyes and the world of adventure held in the space between his two front teeth. And he’d meant it when he’d told Bucky he’d do anything for him.

Even suffer the torture of the damned, to protect him from abuse at the hands of anyone, but especially House Rumlow.

&&&

“Five Points? Really?” Bucky whined as he tucked into his morning meal, oatmeal with fresh fruits and nuts, with luscious pastries, eggs fresh from the farm, and rashers of bacon from the House’s own smokehouse. The repast was laid out in simple serving dishes, ingenious little flames keeping the hot food hot, and thick earthenware vessels keeping the cold stuff cold. After he and Steve had filled their plates, the household staff and the House garrison had taken advantage of the buffet, and they could hear the good-natured conversations filtering through from the large staff dining room, while the pair of them ate their meals in peace in the cozy little breakfast room overlooking the garden.

“It makes perfect sense,” Steve insisted, brandishing his fork like a cutlass. “We visit my mother, cut across to stop in at House Carter, cycle through Houses Odinson and Cage, and make our way back within the fortnight. And besides, I know some wonderful taverns and hostels in the Park. Good food, good wine and ale, good people. If we’re to sell the betrothal, if we hope to use it, we need to be seen. Not just by the heads of Houses, but by the people.”

The Park, officially known as Five Points, was a large tract of land that fell at the point where five kingdoms shared borders. Long ago, it had been a contested land, with ownership and fealty shifting regularly among the five kingdoms based on the most recent incursions and power grabs. That was before Steve’s great grandfather, Chester III, brokered a peace treaty that held the lands of Five Points in trust, with every one of the five kingdoms being both responsible for, and beholden to, the lands and its people. Five Points had thrived under the peace accord, its people sharing citizenship of all five Houses, enjoying unrestricted travel and the benefits of citizenship in each. Every year, the Park grew a little more, as the residents voted on applications for new members to their unique enclave. 

The five Houses that ringed the Park were Rogers, Carter, Odinson, Cage, and Rumlow. For nearly 100 years, the Park had enjoyed unparalleled peace and prosperity as it lay nestled in the center of those five great Houses. But since the death of the crown prince’s parents – under decidedly odd circumstances – the House Rumlow had cast a darker and longer shadow with each passing year. The scuttlebutt was that House Rumlow felt constrained, limited to its own lands, and coveted the Park, and the lands of the other Houses. The peace accords were potentially under threat, as could be the peace itself.

“What, we’re not stopping in at House Rumlow?” Bucky teased.

“That’d be in poor taste, don’t you think?” Steve said, shaking his head. “Much as I’d like to know what’s going on there.” But then he grew more serious, “Even so, I don’t think it’d be advisable, especially under the circumstances.” Steve toyed with his napkin for a moment, eyes downcast. Then he lifted them and looked directly at Bucky. “It couldn’t hurt to get a sense of what the people think, though. Folks in the Park can sense the winds of change. If there really is cause for concern, the Park will know it.”

“Rogers is right,” Lady Natasha of the House Barnes Guard announced abruptly as she snatched a piece of bacon right out of Bucky’s hand – en route to his mouth – and dropped unceremoniously into the seat next to him, propping her feet up in his lap.

“You do realize that I’m your crown _prince_ , don’t you, _Lady_ Natasha?” Bucky protested, shoving at her feet as she dug her heels into his thighs.

“Yes, I do realize that you are a whiny baby with no sense of self-preservation. And I am bound to serve thee, o great pain in my ass. Seriously, this is what I get for being born pigeon-toed,” she complained, pulling her feet out of Bucky’s lap to sit up straight and steal a pastry off the plate between them. “I coulda been a prima ballerina. Instead I get to babysit your fine asses.” She grinned and chomped into the treat, not bothering to close her mouth as she chewed.

“I dunno, I think I may have lost my appetite,” Bucky groused good-naturedly.

“Good. More for me then. So. The Park. I approve.”

“I’m so relieved,” Steve deadpanned, then broke into a grin. ”It does, after all, border on my House’s lands.”

“Thanks to the peace accord your House shepherded into law three generations ago,” she agreed, picking up Steve’s coffee, sniffing it, then taking a sip. Her eyebrows arched in appreciation, and she took a larger swallow.

“I’ll go get you a plate and a cup of coffee, shall I?” Steve offered, half-serious, hooking a thumb toward the serving room.

“No need. Clint’s grabbing me some grub. So, the Park. Tour of the nearby Houses by the beautifully betrothed. But giving the House Rumlow a skip. That’ll ruffle some diplomatic feathers. Could be useful, actually. See what shakes loose. What’s your official reason?”

“The petitions for betrothal crossed, and we feel it would be indelicate to parade our betrothal in front of the crown prince of House Rumlow. We don’t want to rub his nose in it,” Steve answered primly, then burst into a bright smile when Natasha grinned at him and smacked him on his very well developed bicep.

“I like it,” she approved, chewing thoughtfully.

“Glad you approve of our plans,” Bucky noted a little sourly.

“Of course I do. Your plans fit my plans like a well-made glove. When do we leave?” she asked, popping a strawberry into her mouth from the bowl of fruit on the table.

“No. We don’t need a military escort,” Bucky protested.

“Hmm, let’s see. The crown princes of not one but two Houses, traversing the countryside alone to cross the Park and enter into the lands of other Houses. No, of course you don’t want an escort – what could possibly go wrong?”

“Nat –“ Bucky growled.

“Clint and me, that’s it. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Nat …” Bucky said again, his voice husky and dangerous.

“It’s that or Ser Coulson sics an armed troop on you, and Ser Fury will meet you halfway through the Park to greet you with the garrison of House Rogers. You get big security – or you get _good_ security. You know you like me better,” she simpered a little, and then her eyes lit up as she spied Clint coming out of the serving room juggling a tray overburdened with two overflowing plates, a couple of sloshing mugs, and a bowl of fruit threatening to make a break for it. To Steve, she said impishly, “You’d better help him before we’ve got fruit puree all over the parquet.”

“Ah, damn!” Steve swore, launching out of his seat to grab the fruit bowl before it became airborne, trying to help Clint reorganize his booty so nothing went walkabout. 

Nat took advantage of Steve’s distraction to lean against Bucky’s shoulder and lay her head there, asking softly, “When are you gonna tell him?”

“Tell him what, Nat? He’s doing me a solid, but this is just for show, you know that.”

“He wouldn’t offer to put his life on hold for just anyone. He’s into you, James. Everyone can see it but you.”

“This isn’t the first time he’s done this.”

“Ah. Well, there is that.”

“Wait, you _knew_?”

She shrugged eloquently. “But this is different. His betrothal to Peggy was quiet, intimate. They were able to keep it all contained, there were no big gestures, no grand tour.”

“They _are_ neighboring kingdoms. It’s not like there was a lot of territory in between.”

“You just don’t wanna believe it, James. Oh, head’s up, incoming!”

Clint nearly tripped over his feet one more time before coming to a sudden and graceful stop, then quietly dropped into his seat next to Steve. “Thanks, man. So, we doing one bachelor party? Or two?”

&&&

“Give your mother my love, won’t you? I hope she’ll be able to come for a visit soon. Oh, the wedding!” Winifred said excitedly, then deflated with a wan smile. “Right,” Queen Winifred sobered, smoothing down the collar of Steve’s travelling cloak. She leaned forward so only he could hear, and said, “Is it wrong for me to hope that the wedding will happen, that you and my son will be joined? I can think of no one better for my James than you, Steven,” she added, a wistful smile on her face. “In any case, please remind Queen Sarah that she is welcome anytime at House Barnes. I would so enjoy having her share in the Spring Festival – we used to have such fun together when we were girls.”

“I’ll tell her, Winnie,” Steve agreed, his own smile a bit wistful. This was it. The moment when everything changed. When they went out through the house’s doors, they were going public with their betrothal. Fake or not, he was committed.

“Ser Pietro is already on his way with our reply to their petition. House Rumlow will know that James is taken before you reach the Park.”

“Thank you. That’s good to know. In that case, we might even catch up with him.”

“No one catches up with Ser Pietro, you should know that, Steven. At best, you might meet him on the way back,” she chuckled.

“Then I will look forward to that,” he chuckled back, but his mind was whirling. He wished he’d had the opportunity to brief Ser Pietro before he’d started his journey to House Rumlow, both to warn him, and to prime him to do some sleuthing on Steve’s behalf. Well, too late now, but ifthey got lucky enough to cross paths in the Park, Steve had every intention of spending time and good wine on picking Ser Pietro’s brain on his recent trip to House Rumlow.

&&&

Finally, their small party was ready to go. Clint took the reins on the small House Rogers coach led by a sturdy and powerful black pair named Moya and Aeryn, both raised in the Rogers’s stables from a bloodline bred for endurance, good nature, and quiet strength. The coach contained all their bedding, supplies, and a bed large enough for two well-formed crown princes to rest on the road. Steve’s Ma always insisted he travel with it, and had his own driver who usually accompanied him. Ser Wilson wasn’t averse to sitting this trip out to spend more time with Lady Hill, especially when Steve had assured him of the intent of Barton and Romanoff to look after the two princes, whether they liked it or not.

Natasha rode a big white Valdamaran mare named Kotik, a handsome creature of wit, intelligence and towering endurance who could be nasty to anyone who wasn’t Natasha. The beast was gorgeous and seemed to know it in the way its blue eyes danced, and the long-haired legs danced, its bridle jingling. She was dressed in simple riding leathers, but Bucky could spy seven different weapons hidden about her tiny self as he stood smoothing the nose of his mount, a beautiful blue roan stallion by the name of Zephyr. 

He and Zephyr were old friends, having met the moment Zephyr was born, since Bucky had been interning in the stables, and had helped to straighten him when he’d turned the wrong way in the birth canal. Bucky had been helping the vet, and when Zephyr’s mother had experienced unexpected distress, Bucky had found himself up to his shoulders in goo, trying to make a grab for the foal’s ankles to turn him and pull him out. Steve had been there to help, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s mid-section as the two of them had tugged with all their might to get that little horse free. Zephyr had suddenly decided he wanted to see the world, sluiced out of his mother’s birth canal, dousing both boys in a flood of afterbirth and yuck. It had all been worth it when they helped the baby horse to its feet, and Bucky was happy to still share adventures with him more than ten years later.

Steve rode up on his own horse, another House Rogers masterpiece, a towering palomino mare named Valkyrie, with a coat of burnished gold accented by a long white mane and curious amber eyes. Astride the monster, Steve looked commanding and most definitely royal. Bucky looked up at him and had to forcibly quell the heat that pooled deep in his gut at the sight of Steve in his dark travel leathers against the pale coloring of his magnificent horse. He had to remind himself once again that the fake betrothal was in a good cause, and he could survive travelling with his beautiful friend to avoid a life of unhappiness and potential pain in House Rumlow.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty pair?” Natasha said, grinning. “Shall we, gentlemen?”

“Onward,” Steve agreed, and he clicked his tongue and gently prodded Valkyrie’s sides to urge her onto the roadway toward home.

Bucky had no choice but to follow, as he always did where Steve led. Clint pulled out behind him with the coach, and Natasha took up the rear, whistling jauntily as they bid farewell to House Barnes.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you, but I'm having a blast with this story. It's such fun creating a culture as I go, building a history, and laying it out in my head. 
> 
> That said, I'm hoping the next installment I post will actually be the next chapter of Threads. And I really gotta give Ohana some love soon. So, if you haven't already, subscribe to me to be notified of new chapters and new works.
> 
> A comment or two would be nice, too. :)


	4. C'est Moi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet the denizens of House Odinson, and learn a bit more of the nation of the Houses. And Bucky and Steve learn to be awkward around each other ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lame summary, but it's after 4 a.m., and my eyes keep wanting drift shut. More later. :)

They made good time, crossing through the lands of House Barnes, through the border checkpoint into the realm of House Odinson where they were greeted by old friends in the garrison there. Steve of course travelled through these lands frequently on his way to and from House Rogers, and was often seen travelling with the brothers Odinson themselves, often with their lady wives. Bucky made his way to visit Steve on occasion, although he was more likely to hang close to the border, sampling the local brewhouses and meaderies – not to mention the lads and lasses – in the land of Odinson. Prince James of the House of Barnes had quite the reputation amongst the both the public and pleasure houses of the border towns under House Odinson.

Natasha, as a high-ranking member of the House Barnes guard, was a frequent visitor as well, sometimes accompanying her prince, and sometimes shadowing him to bring him home one way or another. On occasion, she travelled on her own for security purposes, and even more occasionally, she allowed herself to be seen. She had personally arm-wrestled nearly every officer of the guard – and won – at least twice. And Clint, while he was equally high-ranking, was better known for his skill with the bow, and was five time champion of the House Odinson Archery Invitational, and six time champion of the House Barnes Archery Classic. The Odinson event was five years old, while the Barnes event was six, and Clint dominated both with an ease that bordered on supernatural. Some claimed they should just turn each tourney into an exhibition event, and everyone would happily spend the money to sit and be awed by his skill. Clint just liked to play with arrows.

In all, the foursome was welcomed warmly into the lands of Odinson. They spent an engaging hour in the company of the garrison, chatting, having a cool drink and a quick snack, sharing stories and suspicions before finally Natasha suggested it was time to move on if they wanted to reach the Park by nightfall. Steve paused to ask a few more questions, committing answers to memory, and then they were off again. Steve did not miss the knowing glances shared among the company, or the way they eyed Bucky and him. He really needed to get home to talk to his Mom before the wave of rumor hit her, and she got her hopes up about a real betrothal for her only son.

They continued through the kingdom at a fair clip, aiming to reach the border into the Park by nightfall. But first, as much as Steve wanted to make haste to House Rogers, he also wanted to pay a visit to the princes who jointly ruled and protected the people of House Odinson, his friends Thor and Loki Odinson. Not only would they be offended if the team passed through their lands without a friendly visit, but also Steve wanted to pick their brains and give them warning about his suspicions over House Rumlow. He had a feeling he needed to thinking seriously about building a coalition sooner rather than later. The peace his great grandfather had brokered so many years ago appeared to be fraying at the edges – the edges closest to House Rumlow itself. That was in no one’s interest but House Rumlow.

The afternoon was aging when the foursome drew their mounts – and the carriage – up at the gates to the Odinson compound. The Gatekeeper, Heimdall, came out of his warm haven with its cheery fire and comfortable chair to greet the weary travelers.

“Well met, Prince Steven, Prince James. Nice to see you again, Lady Natasha, Ser Clint. What brings you so far from the warmth and comfort of House Barnes, eh?”

“We’re on our way to see my Mother,” Steve explained, and braced himself against the suspicion that people who knew them were going to ask why he and Bucky were travelling with a small but elite guard to see his _Mom_. From the elegantly arched eyebrow over Heimdall’s golden eyes, he had a feeling he knew exactly what “people” would be thinking.

“Her royal highness, eh? You must carry news of great import, Prince Steven. News that involves another House, perhaps? A possible alliance?” he asked, glancing pointedly at Bucky, who lounged back in his saddle with a knowing smirk.

So, there was that. He really didn’t want the rumors to start flying before he had a chance to explain to her that the betrothal was a strategic feint, not a real commitment. She’d get her hopes up if the gossip reached her before he could provide the truth of the matter. But it was starting to look like their mere presence together on the road to House Rogers was going to set tongues wagging. It hadn’t dawned on him that as much time as he and Bucky spent together, it was always at House Rogers or House Barnes – it had been years since the two princes had travelled together. So of course assumptions were going to be made.

But wouldn’t that make the illusion more real to the minds of those who beheld it? If they suspected and their suspicions were rewarded by a betrothal announcement? This may in fact be something he could use, despite the sheer volume of apologies he’d owe his Queen Mother. And he did have a plan to encourage collaboration as they travelled – he feared a unified group of Houses might be necessary sooner rather than later. Letting the other Houses believe they shared in the conspiracy of Steve and Bucky’s betrothal might be just the thing to seal the deal – an innocuous band of co-conspirators who ultimately joined over a more sober cause.

Perhaps a little … physical affection … would sell the illusion, make it more believable. There was, after all, a strategic value to strengthening the diplomatic ties between House Rogers and House Barnes. Not that anyone would have expected the two houses to go to war, not with the friendship Bucky and Steve had shared so much of their lives, just as his father had been friends with Bucky’s Dad, King George. But the appearance of a more permanent alliance, forged through marriage … that might give the other Houses more incentive to align with Steve’s nascent coalition. And the fact that he could allow himself the illusion of Bucky being attracted to him didn’t hurt. He’d be broken-hearted later, but at least he’d have some memories to warm him in the coming years …

All of this internal dialogue passed in a matter of seconds, and Steve made his decision to play up the “secret betrothal” there on the spot. “Well, there are formal accords to be struck, but there _might_ be an announcement coming out of a certain pair of Houses very soon,” Steve told him with a shy duck of his head and a small smile. He caught Bucky’s eye as he went into his aw, shucks routine, and Bucky tamped down a laugh by pressing his teeth into his luscious lower lip, his eyes dancing as he watched Steve with that predatory glance that had dropped many a panty over the years.

And the heat that flashed through his body like brush fire nearly took Steve’s breath away. He’d never been the object of that look before, and he found it overwhelming to his senses. And instantly addictive.

This was either a very, very good idea, or the most spectacularly bad idea of his life. But he was committed.

“Well, I look forward to being able to tender my congratulations to the merger of two great Houses. I hope you’ll consider inviting me to the bachelor party – or is that parties?” he asked slyly.

“That’s what I asked,” Clint chimed in from the carriage seat. “Maybe two. Double your pleasure. Or just a weeklong parade of drink and debauchery.”

“Double the damage, more like,” Natasha grumbled. “The kingdoms must still be standing after, you know. What’s the point of joining Houses if the Houses are in rubble?”

“Ah, perhaps the revelries should be held here at House Odinson – Thor and Loki’s father, the late King Odin, built the keep to withstand both marauders and the revelries of the princes and their friends. It is, after all, conveniently located between … well, between the paths to many Houses.”

“Hmm. We’ll bear it in mind. And are the princes in? We’d hoped to stop and chat for a few minutes before making our way into the Park.”

“Ah, you should know, Prince Steven, that neither of my liege lords would allow you to leave after only a few moments at the gate. No, you will be staying the night, and you will dine with them this evening. I will arrange to have your things taken up to your rooms, and you can leave your mounts and carriage in the courtyard to be cared for,” he said, stepping back with a flourish as the gates opened outward, revealing a retinue to collect them and their things. 

At no time during their conversation had he moved out of their sight, nor spoken to anyone but them. As always, it was a mystery how the Odinson Gatekeeper, Ser Heimdall, marshalled the resources of Odinson to welcome esteemed guests, or hold off unwelcome visitors. Some suspected sorcery, other mindmagic. Steve had a wager on a very small page who exited out the back of Heimdall’s gate house to alert the stewards. Regardless of how, it would all be taken care of in grand style, because that’s how House Odinson did everything.

“Well, I’d really hoped to spend the night in the Park tonight – “ Steve started to protest, but Bucky dismounted and handed Zephyr off to a groom, then sidled up to Steve where he slid his hand from the small of Steve’s back to the nape of his neck, possessively, sinuously, deliciously. Heimdall did not miss the gesture, and Steve felt his skin tingle everywhere Bucky’s hand moved, the sensation filling him with a fluttery, soaring sensation. Bucky’s palm flattened against the small of his back, a sun about to go supernova as the heat seeped into his bones and lit flares up and down his spine. A tiny indrawn breath must have betrayed him, because suddenly Bucky shifted, withdrawing his hand and draping his arm around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him close, almost comradely, but no less possessive. 

“House Odinson puts on a good spread. We rest here, and we get an early start. You’ll get your Park soon enough, Steve. Let’s relax a little tonight, huh? Don’t wanna insult a friendly House, after all.” Bucky drew his arm closer, pulling Steve tighter against his chest, and Steve found he just moved where Bucky led him.

Like always.

Suddenly, Steve just wanted to forget all about House Rumlow, his plans to bring the Houses together, even telling his Mom about his fake engagement. He just wanted to melt into Bucky’s shoulder, rest his head in the crook of his neck, and breathe him in deep, learn the true scent of him as he’d never done before.

Instead, he held himself rigidly and nodded. “Sure, why not?”

Bucky’s arm stiffened and drew away, and Bucky shifted back on one leg, putting space between them.

Every nerve ending in Steve’s body screamed and begged to have him back, but he just stood there, smiling pleasantly, ignoring the war going on inside him.

Heimdall smiled and nodded. “Well met, indeed, my lords. I’ve sent word ahead and the Princes Odinson await your arrival.” He stepped back and bowed deeply, stating, “The House Odinson welcomes you as our honored guests. Lady Sif will take you to your rooms, and the Princes will call upon you anon.”

The Lady Sif, a formidable warrior of the House Odin, seemed to materialize at the gate, her expression grim as she stood at parade rest, hand lightly gripping the pommel of her great sword. Her grave visage held for a heartbeat, and then another, and then her whole demeanor changed as she broke into a smile and a relaxed stance, stepping forward to greet each of them enthusiastically in turn with hugs and clasped arms. She was especially pleased to see Natasha, and they talked trash between them about challenges and face-offs all the way to the residence, and the suite of rooms they would use while enjoying the hospitality of House Odinson.

“The Princes will be happy to see you all. Get settled and shake off the dust of the road. The Masters Stark recently installed a wonderful contraption that brings heated water to the baths without requiring serving people to haul it. I highly recommend it. Dinner will be served at sunset in the lesser dining room. I’ll see you all there.”

They all thanked her in their own way, and were then left in the sumptuous suite with the oversized parlor and its massive fireplace, with several doors leading off the room.

“Dibs,” Natasha called from the first bedroom, a strategically placed with an additional door opening onto the corridor beyond. This was traditionally the accommodation of a guardsperson travelling with royalty or some other kind of dignitary. It boasted a third door that would lead to the shared bathing chamber between the two bedrooms.

Clint claimed the other room that boasted an exterior door and another door to the bathing chamber, putting him on the other side of the suite. Steve and Bucky went to the other doors that appeared to face into the interior, but when Steve opened his door, he found a pantry with a wine rack, a small cooling closet, and a dumbwaiter. No doubt how the room could be furnished with fresh food while the suite was occupied, without adding another exterior door.

That meant that …

“This is us,” Bucky announced from the other – the _only_ other – bedroom. He stood in the doorway gesturing into the enormous room beyond. From where Steve stood, he could see their travelling gear, a free standing bath, a large fireplace, floor to ceiling windows with wrought-iron railings on the balcony beyond. And one single solitary very large bed. Bucky glanced toward the bed and back to Steve, and shrugged.

&&&

“Not that I am unhappy to have you both here, what brings you both to Odinson lands? And the Lady Natasha and Ser Clint?” Loki asked, leaning back in his seat to sip from a fine goblet half-filled with a rich amber liquid, a honey wine fermented in the meaderies of Odinson.

“Yes, we see one or the other of you all the time, but it is rare indeed that we have you both to ourselves at the same time, and never with our friends from the House Barnes guard” Thor agreed, grinning around the chicken leg he attacked with gusto.

“Let them eat their meals in peace,” Lady Jane, Thor’s wife of several years, admonished. It was even rarer for her to be at court, since her many scientific pursuits usually drew her away to her observatories and labs dotted across the land, and sometimes to other lands to work on projects with the scientists of other Houses.

“What I want is the gossip. What’s the latest from the kitchens of House Barnes?” piped up Lady Darcy, the ebullient and irrepressible wife of Loki. At the disbelieving expressions from the others, she replied, “What? All the best gossip comes from below stairs. You want to know what’s going on in a house, you check in with the scullery maids and household staff, you mark my words! And don’t forget the laundry, either!”

“She ain’t lyin’,” Bucky agreed indolently, taking a swig of the remarkable vintage red wine that Thor had pressed upon him. Bucky had happily gifted each of the princes with a bottle of that southern sweetberry wine he’d introduced to Steve. He’d brought half his case with him to give bottles as gifts as they visited houses. 

“Heimdall said something about an impending alliance,” Loki picked up the thread again, setting his wine glass down and sitting up in his seat. “Come, pray tell – are the two of you finally planning to be wed?”

_Finally?_

Steve frowned at the choice of words, while Bucky shifted sinuously in his seat and smirked. 

“Ah. You have not yet informed your lady mother, have you?” Thor guessed, and Steve’s expression smoothed, while Bucky cast flirtatious gazes to the others over his glass as moved to sit forward. He tilted his head slightly as if to say, “Perhaps.”

“Well, we would love to host your betrothal party. Or, oh my – your bachelor party! Our father made this keep blast proof – we could host the party to end all parties here in your honor. And it would be our pleasure to help you celebrate your happiness here at House Odinson.”

Steve took a sip of his wine and set the glass down carefully. “Well, _if_ such a betrothal were in the offing, the respective Houses might have opinions on that.” He glanced around the table and smiled. “Then again, it would be a grand way to cement alliances among _all_ the respective houses.”

Thor stared at him soberly for a long moment, then nodded imperceptibly. “That it would, my friend. That it would. Let us toast to betrothals and alliances, then, shall we? To friendships that foster the greater good.” He raised goblet and held it aloft expectantly.

Steve, Bucky, Loki, Darcy and Jane all clinked their glasses together, while Natasha and Clint got up from their seats at the end of the table to join them. “To the greater good,” Steve agreed.

&&&

Natasha and Clint had excused themselves to do a perimeter sweep – not necessary in a friendly house, but Natasha had made it clear she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she’d completed the circuit for herself. That left the royals to entertain themselves.

Over the dessert course, Steve relaxed back in his chair and let his eyes take in the assemblage. He smiled faintly to himself, and pushed forward. “Tell me, what news is there among the houses?”

“Hah! You’ve been too long among the stacks at House Barnes. Or have you been engaged in more pleasurable pursuits there, my friend?” Thor asked mildly, glancing from Steve to Bucky and back. Steve allowed himself a small smile and a shrug, and Thor clapped him on the shoulder and laughed heartily. Then he grew sober as he relayed what he’d heard since they’d last seen each other. 

“House Schmidt is casting about for a new alpha. King Johann grows older and more feeble-minded by the day, yet he refuses to sign over power to any omega. The old fool surrounded himself with unwilling and unhappy partners, fancying himself a sultan rather than head of a House. And now his House is in disarray. Seven omegas bound to him, and not a single offspring. He claims he has been poisoned by neighboring houses, that his seed has been cursed. He keeps sending emissaries to House Carter, and I understand to your House as well, Steve. The emissaries are tasked with lodging complaints and accusations of sorcery and interference. If the old braggart doesn’t die of his own hubris soon, he’ll be demanding a Council of Houses to plead his case.”

“All the while King Johann has been shooting blanks for generations,” Loki concluded with a shudder. “I suppose we should be thankful the old deviant _hasn’t_ reproduced.”

“Hear, hear,” Darcy agreed, raising her cup. 

Jane shook her head. “I feel sorry for his omegas. Women and men, in sexual slavery. And for now, none of the other Houses can do a thing for them. At the next Council of Houses, I expect you all to speak up,” she said pointedly, spearing each of them with her fire. Bucky nodded emphatically, and Steve inclined his head as well. Thor and Loki each nodded tersely, lips thin lines of determination. While Jane was neither alpha nor omega, she believed fiercely in the rights of all, and she was quite willing to fight for what she believed in.

“So why is the House looking for a new alpha?” Bucky asked.

Loki’s expression soured. “To plow the fields, one supposes. Get an heir, perhaps. Or to usurp the throne, more likely. House Rumlow has been sending diplomatic missions to House Schmidt, but so far they don’t seem to have struck an accord.”

“I have concerns about House Rumlow,” Steve admitted quietly.

Thor looked at him silently for a moment, assessing. Then he said quietly, “So should we all. You know if you were to seek to unite the Houses, Odinson will back you.”

“Why Steve?” Bucky asked then, leaning back in his seat, twirling his glass so his wine shifted and caught the light like liquid gems.

“Why not?” Loki asked, surprised by the question. “He is descended from King Chester III, the man who brought peace to Five Points.”

“I never understood why he did that, and didn’t take the High Kingship for himself.”

“He didn’t believe in it,” Steve answered. “He didn’t believe in returning the kingdoms to a high monarchy. The realms suffered enough under Mad King Thanos. He felt the Houses could work better as partners and allies.”

“And yet here we have House Rumlow sniffing about,” Bucky inserted with a disgusted huff. “They petitioned for me, you know.”

“Why on earth – _oh_. Well, that’s barbaric,” Jane denounced. “None of the Houses except the most backward think that way anymore. You should be your own liege. Or, if you’re marrying into another House, your sister should be. Becca would make a fine queen some day.”

Bucky snorted. “And yet Mom and Dad were seriously considering the petition. Fortunately, there was already another claimant.”

“ _Buck_ …”

“These are our friends, Stevie. We can trust them. But we have not yet informed Steve’s mother, so you mustn’t tell a soul.”

“House Odinson knows how to keep secrets, my friend. But in exchange, you must let us throw you a party when the news is known. It brings us all great joy to know that you have finally succumbed to the wishes of your hearts.”

 _Again with the finally_ …

Steve put out his hand to Thor, and after a moment of hesitation, Bucky mirrored the gesture with Loki. “We promise.”

“So what of House Rumlow? Aren’t you concerned about reprisal?” Darcy asked from her spot.

Steve shook his head. “Ser Pietro was dispatched before we left to inform House Rumlow that Bucky was not on the market for a proposal. Knowing Pietro, he’ll be on his way back by now. Speaking of which, I was hoping if he does stop here on his way back, if you could detain him until I return. Not only would I like to find out what he observed, I would like to set him upon another task before he returns home.”

“I enjoy Ser Pietro’s company. I will be happy to encourage him to delay his return to House Barnes and stay a while. Although it is not so far –“

“I’d prefer to discuss matters away from Bucky’s home,” Steve confirmed.

“Steve?”

“It’s okay, Buck. I don’t suspect any spies in your household. I’d just rather be able to talk to Pietro without distraction. You know how he can be.”

“Like a magpie with a shiny,” Bucky chuckled. “Okay. I get it,” he agreed, stifling a yawn. “Ugh, I didn’t realize how tired I was. Did I hear that you’ve got piped hot water in the baths?”

“The Masters Stark installed it for us a little while ago. Mad as loons on a hot lake, the pair of them. But geniuses, too. I can see why they abdicated the House headship, though. House Stark is more effectively run by Lady Potts, and the pair of them, father and son, can do so much good with their impossible brains, don’t you think?”

House Stark lay to the north of House Odinson and House Cage, beyond the edge of the Park and stretching north and westward to run to the far edge of the realms of the Houses. Several years ago, father and son had decided to transition power to Tony’s wife, Pepper, and she had assumed the throne of House Stark. She’d done an exemplary job so far, better than any Stark had. In the meantime, the father and son due had dedicated themselves to developing tools and techniques to help advance the lands of the Houses. They all knew that Howard and Tony just liked to tinker, and neither had been happy running a House, while Pepper had simply blossomed in the role

“They’re providing these services to different houses, eh? Any idea where they might be right now?”

“I don’t think they know where they are from moment to moment,” Loki chuckled. “But we’ll send out feelers if you like?” Steve nodded. “Perhaps we should be thinking of a gathering to plan for your nuptials, old friends. A gathering of friends and interested parties,” Loki added with an arch of his eyebrow.

“Ah, yes. And what better place to hold it than neutral ground, where neither family has the advantage?” Thor elaborated.

“In, say, a fortnight’s time?” Loki concluded.

Steve looked from one to the other of the Odinson brothers with awe and conviction in his eyes. Then he looked to Jane and to Darcy. “Is this okay with you as well?”

Jane focused the full intensity of her gaze on Steve, and nodded. “I think it would be wonderful to be so … _united_ … with our fellow Houses. I would welcome the opportunity, Steve.”

“As would I,” Darcy concurred. “After all, there’s no problem that can’t be solved by the right party.”

&&&

They didn’t even have to flip for who got to use the bath first. Steve said he wanted to discuss their next steps with Natasha and Clint, so he went off in search of them while Bucky went back to their rooms to avail himself of the newest boon from the Minds of Stark. And he noted the taste of Loki and Darcy in the selection of bath oils and foaming balls. A few quick sniffs, and he found something he liked very much, and tossed it in the tub to release its scent and froth into the water.

As he sunk into the steaming, fragrant water until it lapped against his chin, he settled into the bath and let the heat uncoil his muscles, soothing away aches and pains he hadn’t noticed he had until they were gone. The dust of the road, the stiffness of sitting in the saddle most of the day, the worry about how this charade would play out … it all drained away into the scented water. His hands gripped the sides of the tub lightly, fingers skimming the curl of the metal. The steam kept his skin warm as he melted away gradually, weariness giving way to sleepiness and soft relaxation. He lay there wrinkling up in the water until it was cooling, and Steve, Natasha, and Clint returned to the suite. He’d left the door open, so Steve walked right in, and then stumbled over his own big feet, the adorable doofus.

“Omigods, sorry!” he apologized, trying to back out of the room, but Bucky waved him in.

“C’mon, Stevie, you’ve seen me in the bath before!” he chuckled. “And besides – I planned this poorly and I need some towels. Be a good little betrothed, and help a fella out, please?”

Steve turned to get some towels from the bathroom as he called over his shoulder, “Pretty sure you’ve changed a bit since we were twelve and in trouble for rolling down the hills in the mud after the rains.”

“A bit. But I still like to take a tumble now and again,” he agreed with a sly snicker as Steve came out carrying a pile of thick, soft towels. He held one out to Bucky, half turning his gaze, and Bucky chose that moment to rise to his feet from the bath, letting the water sluice down over his muscles as he reached out for the towel. Which he promptly used to dry his hair, ignoring his own nakedness unapologetically.

Or rather, flaunting his nakedness shamelessly.

He’d noted how unsurprised the entire Odinson clan, hell, the entire House, was over the idea of a true betrothal between Steve and Bucky. He noted now how Steve shied away from looking at him. He noted how dark Steve’s normally bright blue eyes were under the veil of his thick lashes, how the pink tip of his tongue nervously poked out and smoothed along those luscious lips he’d wanted to taste for as long as he could remember. He noted the tremble in Steve’s throat as he swallowed reflexively.

With _desire_?

Desire for _him_?

He had to _know_.

Steve pushed the pile of towels at him, still looking away. “Here y’go, Buck. I’ll go make up a bed on the couch, you take the bed here –“

“Oh, no. We’ve got to sleep in the same room, the same bed. The maids will be able to tell if we don’t. Trust me, you want to sell the betrothal, there will be no couch sleeping,” Bucky commanded, accepting the towels. At the blush and uncomfortable look on Steve’s face, he relented, and tied a towel around his waist. Then he stepped out of the tub, pulled the stopper, and let the water drain away. “And you are taking a bath before you get in bed.”

At that, Steve looked up, glaring. “I bathed before we left your House, Buck. I’m not that dirty from the journey –“

“No, not to get clean. To get relaxed. This is wonderful – and you have to pick a bath bomb or bath oil from the selection – trust me on this, Steve. Pleasure is something I know very well. You need to experience this. You owe it to yourself.”

Steve stood there uncertainly, looking at the bath, at Bucky, at the bed.

Finally, Bucky understood. Steve wasn’t going to get naked in front of Bucky so he could get in the tub. “Here, let me start it for you, and then you can have a nice long private soak. Just don’t fall asleep – it’s very tempting, I promise you. You’ll sleep better in the bed after. A good rest’ll do you good. It’s clear from your conversation with Thor and Loki that trouble is brewing.”

“Don’t count yourself out, Buck. You took part in that conversation, too. Just like you should, as the proper heir to your House.”

“It doesn’t matter to you, does it? That I’m an omega, you’re alpha? It just doesn’t count for you.”

“I don’t know why it should. Any more than Peggs being a woman at the head of her House. You’re capable, Buck. So is Becca. Either one of you would make an excellent monarch to your House. I never thought your parents would still hold to the old, stupid ways. We’ll fix that when we get home. But for now, why don’t you pick one of those things out for me, and I’ll take that bath, huh?”

Bucky smiled. It wasn’t like he needed a reminder of why he loved Steve Rogers, but there you were.

&&&

Finally, bath time was over, both men were dressed for bed, Natasha and Clint were satisfied with the security of the House, and both had agreed they would trade off in four hour increments to guard their charges anyway. Natasha checked over the integrity of the windows and their locks, as well as the wrought iron beyond the windows, and deemed it satisfactory. The wrought iron contained the balcony completely – no intruder could pass between the bars, not even a child. Yet the encasement could be unlocked from within to open the view. Finally convinced that her charges were safe enough, Natasha bid them both a goodnight, and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

And then Steve and Bucky were standing, just the two of them, awkwardly staring at the very large bed that dominated their room.

“Um …” Steve offered.

“Well,” Bucky considered. “Which side do you prefer?”

“I don’t know? I haven’t shared a bed with anyone since you got over your nightmares.”

“I never got over my nightmares. Still have ‘em. Just figured I was getting too big for your bed. Which, granted, it’s a bed much, much smaller than this one.”

“Oh. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say?”

“Figured it wasn’t your problem. Some day you’ll go back to your House, and you’ll stay there. As King.”

“Yeah, I guess that might happen. I, of course, am planning for my Mother to live forever so I never have to face that reality.”

“That’s a good plan. So, look, I do have some experience with sharing a bed. I like the outside, the right side. Is that okay with you?”

Steve seemed to sag with relief that a decision was made. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” he agreed, and hurried over to the left side of the bed. Bucky took that as his cue to turn down the lamps, and the room was cast in darkness then, illuminated only by the sheen of the moon and the glitter of the stars in the night sky.

For a few moments, there was only the sound of rustling fabric as both men slid under the covers and settled in for the night, lying side by side on their backs, hands clasped over their stomachs.

Finally, Steve whispered, “G’night, Buck.”

“G’night, Steve,” Bucky whispered back.

&&&

Steve woke up to the sound of someone moving quietly in the room. He cracked open an eye to see the weak light of pre-dawn filtering through the windows, coupled with the sudden flare of kindling catching and being shoved into the hearth to light the fire. One of the household staff, up before the dawn to prepare the room for the day so its occupants would not wake up to a chill. He smiled, and snuggled back down into the enveloping warmth of the bed.

  
The enveloping warmth provided by two strong arms wrapped around his torso, and a warm body pressed against his back, legs tangled with his, a face resting against his shoulder, breath puffing out warm and moist across his skin.

_Oh._

So this is what it felt like to wake up in the arms of a lover.

Or a friend. Friends did this. Friends _were_ doing this. They were doing it right now, because he and Bucky were friends, and they were cuddling. Well, Bucky was cuddling him. And he really didn’t want him to ever stop. 

He remembered holding Bucky through his nightmares, wrapping himself around Bucky and soothing him softly, stroking his hair, fighting back the urge to kiss him, to profess his feelings for this friend.

But he never had. And then there was Peggy and Angie. And Bucky discovered … everyone else in the world. 

And this might be Steve’s only chance to revel in the warmth of Bucky’s arms around him, the feeling of his body pressed to his, and he was going to accept this gift for what it was. He willed himself to relax so he could enjoy the sensation, and allow himself to drift back to sleep.

And so he did, with a smile on his lips, and a flutter in his chest.

In the cool pre-dawn hours, in that magical space between night and day, he could have this. He would let himself have this. He smiled and closed his eyes, and let sleep reclaim him while he lay in the circle of the arms he loved most in the world.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already started the next chapter. I was going to have a lot more in this chapter, but I wanted to get it posted now, and the remainder of what I wanted to write can be separated at this point. Watch this space for the next chapter. And you know that comments are always welcome. :)


	5. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which mistakes are made. And compounded. And kinda blow up.
> 
> And then a plan is hatched. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, it's Steve and Bucky. You were expecting easy?

Steve woke to an unusual sensation of warmth and weight surrounding him. Not since he was young had he felt this safe and warm, enveloped in a cocoon of blankets and hot water bottles. Mostly asleep, he was tempted to burrow deeper into the luxurious, seductive comfort.

Only …

He wasn’t young anymore. His mother no longer swaddled him in blankets to hold the chill of winter at bay. 

And that was no hot water bottle nestled between the cheeks of his ass, growing thicker, harder, _hotter_ , as it moved gently up and down his crack.

And those were definitely not his mother’s hands resting on his hips, strong fingers pressing into his flesh, broad thumbs stroking gently over the skin just above the waist of his sleep pants.

And that was decidedly not his mother’s chest pressed up tight against his back, a wall of hard-muscled warmth unyielding against him, yet breathing with him, moving with him.

And that was beyond doubt not his mother’s teeth fastened to his earlobe, biting gently, tip of the tongue fluttering over the swollen flesh, breath hot and moist against his ear, his neck.

He remembered waking up in the pre-dawn to the Bucky sleeping plastered against him, arms wound round his middle, and letting himself fall back into the delirious fantasy that Bucky wanted him, And he was about to say something when that breath against his ear became a teasing voice, chuckling, echoing his own thoughts, “A dream come true, baby. Been dreamin’ about findin’ you in my bed like this. You are so beautiful, it breaks my heart,” Bucky whispered against his skin, pressing kisses under his ear, along the hinge of his jaw, down his neck and into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, where he nuzzled against Steve’s scent glands, alternately breathing in his scent, and lapping gently at the glands. 

Steve felt heat coursing through him like he’d never known, rivers of fire and sheets of golden molten lava, flowing through his veins, blanketing his senses. He was awash in flame as Bucky shifted, his hardened cock pressed into his cleft, where he began to move, sliding up and down, up and down, a delicious pressure against Steve’s ass, his taint. 

Was this the kind of pleasure that Bucky chased routinely? Was this how he always felt? If so, Steve could see the attraction. He could see himself becoming easily addicted, losing himself to the pleasure that muddled his mind and ignited his skin.

And the hand resting on his left hip stroked gentle fingers over his skin, dancing along the edge of his sleep pants, dipping lower to ghost over the hardening line of his own cock, the heel of his palm pressing against Steve’s shaft, and Steve couldn’t help the sudden lift of his hips into that pressure, that contact, that friction, igniting bolts of lightning sizzling through his blood.

“That’s it, sweetheart. I got you. I’ll always have you, sweetheart. You can let go, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Bucky murmured, snaking his other hand under Steve’s side so he could wrap it around Steve’s mid-section and hold him against his chest as he continued to rut against Steve’s ass. 

A purr, a rumble, the beginnings of a growl, started deep in Steve’s chest as Bucky’s fingers deftly slid down into his sleep pants, his fingers cool against the rising heat of Steve’s cock, fingertips dancing along the line of it like a musician playing his instrument. “Gods, darling. I never imagined you were hiding so much from me. You’re amazing, you know that, right? And you are going to feel so fucking good up my ass, baby. I can’t wait to ride this monster ‘til we’re both completely spent, ‘til we can’t go any longer.”

Bucky’s fingers curled more tightly around the length of his shaft, yet barely touched, smoothing up and down the length, a ghost of sensation that sent Steve’s senses into overdrive, chasing it, trying to amplify it. The promise of touch was so much more intense than touch itself. “What else y’got for me, baby? Huh? Ah, there it is,” he murmured, fingers pressing on the ring of flesh at the base of Steve’s cock, his unblown knot. He stroked and teased at it, doing things that Steve had never dared on his own, making Steve gasp and rut up against Bucky’s hand again. Bucky chuckled darkly, whispering, “Like that, baby? Can’t wait to have _that_ pop inside me. We’re gonna be locked for _hours_ once this blows up.” He let his teeth worry at Steve’s earlobe again, making Steve’s eyes roll back in his head. He pressed his head back against Bucky’s shoulder and the pillow behind him as Bucky grazed his neck again with a hint of teeth. “Can’t wait to have all of you inside me,” Bucky growled against Steve’s scent glands. “Can’t wait for you to fill me up,” he added, nibbling at the sensitive flesh there. 

And that’s when Steve smelled it, the spicy-sweet aroma of the unnamed but most delicious dessert ever made. Steve’s mouth watered at the scent, and he lifted his face to sniff at the air. 

“Yeah, baby. You’re making me wet for you. For you and your big fat alpha cock. I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. And you’re gonna fill me up just right, aren’t you, baby?”

Baby. Sweetheart. Darling. Something twisted and went cold inside Steve.

“Ja-james?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you even know who you’re touching?” 

All the amazing things that Bucky was doing to him just stopped.

And Steve felt the fire turn to ash, and the ash turned cold, moving turgidly through his system. He felt suddenly impossibly heavy, weighed down.

Silence stretched on, expectant and accusing.

Steve felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes even as he felt shame, rejection, and a white hot anger compete for the emotion that was about to overwhelm him.

“I, uh, of _course_ I know –“ Bucky whispered then, his voice sounding small and uncertain.

And Steve’s worst fears were confirmed. 

He didn’t even realize he’d jerked away from Bucky and savagely ripped back the covers, immediately exposing his whole body to the cool morning air. He ignored the goosebumps that instantly raised on his skin, the shiver that ran through his limbs at the sudden change in temperature. He ignored it all, and let himself be propelled by a sudden onslaught of instinct.

Without another word, he was out of bed and moving, scooping up his travel bag, and exiting the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

&&&

Bucky had been hurt that Steve asked him the question, that Steve thought so little of him that he would start stroking the dick of complete stranger. Not that Bucky hadn’t done just that, but it hurt that Steve simply assumed it.

Bucky suddenly realized that while he’d enjoyed the way he’d lived his life, he’d given Steve very little reason to think of him as a serious choice for mate. He wasn’t ashamed of his behavior, but he realized it had excluded Steve from the very space of his life he’d always wanted him to occupy. He’d left no room for Steve, filling that part of his life with pleasure that didn't include Steve.

When Bucky emerged from the bedroom, still clad in his night clothes, Steve was fully dressed and ready to go. He informed Bucky tersely that he had an hour to get his things together, and then they’d be on the road. If he’d prefer to tarry, Bucky could catch up to them. Then he left the suite to join the Odinson clan for breakfast, leaving Bucky alone with Natasha and Clint.  
  


After he’d gone, Natasha rounded on Bucky and demanded, “What did you do to him?”

Bucky didn’t even try to deny that he’d been the cause of the sudden change in Steve’s demeanor. “I thought he was willing. I thought I was seducing him. I thought he wanted me.”

“But?”

“I … he thought I didn’t know it was him, that he was any old knothead I wanted to …” he shook his head. And then Bucky reviewed in his head what he’d said, the endearments he’d spoken. Baby. Darling. Sweetheart. Beautiful.

_Never once, “Steve.”_

No wonder he called him, “James.” Outside of the family, Steve, and his closest friends, everyone else referred to him as Prince James, not Bucky. Bucky was reserved for the people who lived in his life, not the ones who passed through and left after only one night. Natasha was the only one of his close circle who retained the formal name, and she only did that to piss him off.

Steve thought Bucky mistook him for a one night stand he’d picked up in a tavern. Not his best friend and the love of his life. Some random pickup.

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky groaned, dropping his face into his hand as he sank down onto the sofa.

“Oh, fuck is right,” Clint agreed, hauling his bags to the door. There was a stack of neatly packed gear ready to be taken down to their horses and carriage – even Steve's lightweight travel bag was among them. “He’s on a tear. Never seen Crown Prince Steven in such a mood. That was the face of a king about to go to war, Buck. Not of a besotted man in love with his betrothed.”

“It’s a good face,” Natasha added thoughtfully. “It’s the face that could inspire the Houses to unite under the Rogers banner. We may _need_ that face.” She turned fully toward Bucky then, and shook her head sadly. “But it’s not the face you want looking at you when you’re trying to apologize. And you _are_ going to apologize, aren’t you, Prince James?”

“I’m gonna hafto. But how?” Natasha arched an Eyebrow of Judgment at him, and he shook his head miserably. “No, seriously, how? His ego is bruised because he thought I didn’t know I was touching _him_. You don’t think he’s not gonna be mortified to know that I _did_ know it was him, and he reacted that way? You know how he is. He may not be small anymore, but he can be just as prickly as he was when he was twelve.”

“True that. Prince Steven can be generous to a fault, but he’s the hardest judge of himself,” Clint agreed readily. “Rogers coat of arms should be the Porcupine Errant,” he snickered to himself as he went back into Natasha's room to grab her things.

“Why do you _even_?” Bucky asked then, nodding toward the bedroom. “Everyone knows you're all but betrothed. Why separate bedrooms?”

“Actually, we're married. Have been for two years. We take two rooms because we are your guards. We're not a couple when we're in attendance. We are in service to the Crown,” Natasha told him archly, and Clint stopped in his tracks, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and dark.

“There's my girl.” And then to Bucky, “Is she not just _magnificent_?”

“Wait, how the hell did you two get _married_ and I didn’t know about it?”

“Because she,” Clint hooked a thumb at Natasha, “didn’t want any fuss. Simple ceremony. Two of us, vicar, and Ser Wilson as witness.”

“Wait, Wilson? Steve's driver?”

“Well that tells me a lot,” Natasha harrumphed at him. “Wilson’s more than just a driver. He’s Steve’s friend. He’s also his protector, his confidante, the person he turns to for advice, the guy he runs with every morning. Wilson would lay down his life in a second for his Prince, and Steve would be right there putting himself in the way of trouble to save him. He’s also good for a tumble with us on occasion, so when we decided to take the plunge, he was already there. Don’t take it personally. We swore him to secrecy. So, no, Wilson’s not just a driver. He’s Steve’s pal, don’t forget that. But you did, didn’t you? You forget that Steve has a life outside you. That he has friends, hopes, dreams, plans. Just like you do, Prince James. He doesn’t live his life for you, any more than you’ve lived your live for him. He still keeps going, even when you put him in that little box you keep on your shelf until you’re ready to take him out and play with him again. He still lives his life when you’re off having fun. What, did you really think he was just sitting there waiting for you in the library? He's the great grandson of the last man who could have been the Great King. _He_ could be the next Great King, Prince James. While you’ve been fucking your way through the lands of the Houses, he’s been building alliances, working trade agreements, even brokering treaties. Your little playmate grew up while you weren’t looking.”

“Tash, that’s enough,” Clint warned. He’d finished stacking their belongings, dropped Bucky’s open travel case next to the others, and slapped a change of clothes into Bucky’s hands with an order to, “Change.” Then he crossed the space to take her hand gently. “It’s enough.”

Bucky started stripping, folding his night clothes and handing them to Clint to add to his bag. He had no modesty, and certainly not with his two friends and protectors. They’d seen him naked more times than anyone, and besides, he couldn’t tear himself away. Then he pulled on the fresh clothes while Natasha and Clint had their _tete a tete_.

Finally, Natasha shook her head, and shook off Clint. He took it in stride, and just went back to organizing their things, but Natasha turned back to Bucky. “No, one more thing. You’ve been given a gift, James. A friend who believes in you, yes, but also a powerful ally. Potentially a mate who’d be your match in every way. A best friend. Don’t you think you owe it to both of you to do more than seduce him?”

“Like what?”

Natasha tilted her head to the side and regarded him sadly, fondly. “Talk to him. Talk to him about the things that matter to him. Together, you could do great things. You’re more than just a dick and a slick hole, James. You’re certainly more than that to Prince Steven of the House Rogers. It's time you realized that – before it’s too late. Talk to him and apologize.”

“No,” Clint suddenly said emphatically.

“What?” Natasha demanded, rounding on him. Bucky bit back a chuckle. Clint was really cruising for a bruising, challenging Natasha repeatedly and with an audience.

“I said no. Don’t just apologize. And for fuck’s sake, no more seduction. What’s your longest relationship, Buck, huh?”

“I dunno. Three, maybe four days. What, we were snowed in,” he protested with a shrug.

“Three, four days. Steve was engaged to Princess Peggy for five _years_ ,” Clint pointed out reasonably.

“So?”

“So, you’ve never had a relationship last longer than it took to fuck, have breakfast, and say goodbye,” was Clint’s assessment.

Bucky shrugged again. “It’s less complicated that way.”

Natasha rejoined the fray. “I see where you’re going with this. Is that what you want with Steve?”

“No!”

“What _do_ you want?” asked Natasha.

“Seriously, what do you want to have with Steve?” pressed Clint.

“Forever!” Bucky blurted, realizing that it was true. He’d never really given himself the chance to think about this, assuming as he had that first, Steve belonged to Peggy, and second, that Steve was never interested in him. He didn’t want a one night stand. He didn’t want a weekend snowed in. He wanted it all. “I want forever.”

Clint looked at him wide-eyed. “And that’s why you never commit to anyone, isn’t it? Because they –“

“Because they aren’t Steve. Yeah. I know it’s fucked up, but there you are. Okay, Barton, what’s your advice? If I can’t seduce him, how do I get him to, well –“

“Love you? He already loves you. No, really, he does. The pair of you are so unbelievably stupid! You’ve been in love with each other practically since the day you met. He’s too noble and you’re too horny, so you keep missing each other. He loves you. But he doesn’t know that you love him. So that’s your strategy.”

“Strategy. What strategy?”

“You woo him. Not seduce, you _woo_.”

“Woo.”

“Woo.”

“How the _fuck_ do you woo?” Bucky demanded, completely confused by the concept.

“ _Bozhe moi_ ,” Natasha swore and smacked Bucky upside the head, while Clint just smacked his own forehead, muttering, “It’s gonna be a long engagement.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the day off and got my driver's license renewed and took myself out for my annual birthday meal at Uno's. It's a tradition I started a long time ago - go to Uno's, usually by myself because my birthday isn't a national holiday (seriously? why not?) have a great meal, a couple of drinks, read some great fiction, maybe do a little writing. Or in this case, some mulling of plot. There's a lot more to come, and I am really excited about where the story is going. So stick with me. And leave me some comment love if you're so inclined!


	6. How to Handle a Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the aftershocks are felt, and detente might be on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... have some angst.

How to handle a woman,  
There's a way said a wise old man,  
A way known by every woman,  
Since the whole rigmarole began!  
Do I flatter her, I begged him answer,  
Do I threaten or cajole or plea,  
Do I brood or play the gay romancer?  
Said he, smiling, "No, indeed!"  
"How to handle a woman,  
Mark me well, I will tell you sir!  
The way to handle a woman,  
Is to love her, simply love her,  
Merely love her, love her,  
Love her!"

From the musical "Camelot" (1960)  
(Frederick Loewe / Alan Jay Lerner)

Bucky was broody and silent when he followed Natasha and Clint down to join Steve and the Odinsons for breakfast. 

It had been a shit morning.

It had started out nice, fantastic even. Waking up to find himself tangled up with Steve’s glorious body, his ass jammed up against Bucky’s cock, it was just natural to express his interest in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he would with any bedmate, the way he _had_ with many a bedmate. 

But he hadn’t factored in Steve’s penchant for prickliness. Or, his own habit of using endearments so he didn’t have to remember the name of that stay-over lover. But he’d known exactly who he had been touching, his heart had been racing so fast he’d thought it would explode out of his chest and keep going for miles. He was touching _Steve_. The man who not only fueled more than one erotic fantasy in Bucky’s extensive library, but the man who also inspired Bucky to want _more_.

At least, that’s what he finally admitted to. 

He wanted more.

He wanted _everything_.

And he wanted it to last forever.

Steve wasn’t a one-night stand, or a weekend layover, and not even a week’s dalliance. Steve was _it_. Steve was his first love, and he hoped he’d be his last lover.

And he’d just fucked it up monumentally.

So, yeah, that was a shit start to the day.

A few home truths delivered by the Romanoff-Bartons, some much overdue reflection … those were simply aftershocks.

But the look he got from the steward who helped bring their bags down to the courtyard, that was no aftershock.

That was a straight up shock, a present reminder that Bucky’s past had a life of its own. A life that could potentially endanger the future he wanted so desperately with Steve.

“My lord, it is a pleasure to serve you again,” the beautiful young man had greeted, a soft curve to his sinful mouth, his lust-darkened eyes downcast shadowed by long dark lashes kissing the gentle slope of his cheek … and oh my gods, Bucky had to stop thinking like that! The thing was, the steward didn’t recognize Bucky as Crown Prince of House Barnes. No, he recognized Bucky as the extraordinarily good lay he’d had only a few months earlier, during the Odinson Fall Equinox Festival. Right here, at the seat of Odinson lands. Down the hall, in fact, in one of the private suites.

The beautiful young man had made it quite clear that he was up for repeat performance and a tumble right then and there – to help his Highness relax for the long journey ahead, of course – and Bucky realized that if he was going to convince Steve he loved him – _truly_ loved him – his past was going to have to stay firmly and irrevocably in his past.

From now on, Crown Prince James Buchanan Barnes of the House Barnes was a one man man.

From now on, Crown Prince James Buchanan Barnes of the House Barnes was going to be celibate.

From now on, Crown Prince James Buchanan Barnes of the House Barnes was going to go mad from the lack of sex.

The idea of going any length of time without sex made Bucky’s brain white out for a second. He enjoyed sex. No, he _really_ enjoyed sex. He enjoyed his partners, and he enjoyed them in all shapes, sizes, genders, and equipment. He enjoyed being inventive and spontaneous about sex, and he enjoyed planning the seduction, and carefully bringing the execution to the moment of absolute pleasure for him and his partners. He liked to think they enjoyed him. And they did, if the beautiful young man’s actions were any indication. He looked like he was ready to pull Bucky into any unoccupied bedroom, and give him a good and thorough pounding, one more for the road.

At the memory of that night of passion with the beautiful young man – Sean, he thought it was – Bucky’s ass ached and he felt the telltale trickle of slick forming. He swallowed hard and focused on ice and storms, squeezing his muscles tightly to stanch the flow. He thanked Sean politely, with a sweet smile, and informed him that he was with someone now.

“Do let me know if that changes. I’m sure I can make myself available,” Sean practically purred, and Bucky had to focus even more to keep from betraying his arousal.

“Thanks, that’s sweet of you. I very much enjoyed our time together and it is lovely to see you again. But I am lucky enough to be able to say that this is a love match. I’m marrying my best friend, the one person I love most in this world.”

And he realized it was true. Not just words, but up from his toes, deep in his heart, embraced by his soul true.

Apparently, Natasha and Clint heard the truth of his statement, because they chose that moment to stop and turn around to look at Bucky with wonder in their expressions. Natasha’s eyebrow was arched so high, it looked like the slightest flick of his finger could send it spiraling off into space. Clint’s expression was an odd sort of soft affection and grudging respect, with a healthy dose of Bartonian skepticism thrown in to keep the mix fresh.

Well, yeah. He couldn’t really believe what was coming out of his mouth, either. Or what he was saying no to putting in his mouth. Because, of course, the more he was in Sean’s company, the more he remembered about their night together, and, well. Let’s just say Sean had a lot of offer. Like, a _lot a lot_.

And Bucky was saying no thank you politely. Because he didn’t want to burn any bridges if things didn’t work out with Steve.

 _No!_ No, he shouldn’t think that way! He was swearing off, permanently. He was going to make this work. He was going to show Steve how much he loved him, and Steve was finally going to admit to him that he loved him back. They were going to get married for real, not just a fake betrothal to get House Rumlow off his scent, not a political alliance to keep them both from having to deal with _people_.

No, Bucky was saying no thank you politely because Sean was a lovely man and a generous lover, and his offer was flattering and kind. But Bucky really did hope that he and Sean never fucked again, because he wanted the only man fucking him to be Steve, as his husband.

And the sense of relief that Bucky felt at that realization was breathtaking.

He could do this!

&&&

They found the Crown Princes and their lady wives in the breakfast room, a small sub-banquet hall off the main monstrosity, every surface awash in the liquid gold of morning. Steve was seated with the brothers, holding forth with Lady Jane on something that invoked his passion. 

Bucky stood for a moment in the shadow of the entryway, staring. Natasha and Clint both glanced up at him curiously, but wordlessly made their ways into the room, heading for the laden buffet tables and their steaming dishes with tempting scents wafting on the morning air.

But Bucky held back, watching. Watching the play of light in the gold of Steve’s hair. Watching the excited gleam in his brilliant blue eyes as he gestured wildly to his appreciative audience. Watching the way he sketched the air with his elegant and long-fingered hands, the way he formed words and worlds within the frame of his fingers. Bucky remembered that Steve loved to draw, loved to paint. A chill thought fell like a weighted stone in his heart: He could not remember the last time he’d seen Steve draw. He’d been so busy with his own pleasures, he hadn’t noted the change before this moment.

Why did Steve no longer paint, no longer create? Or was it just that this was something Steve no longer shared with Bucky?

Was Steve still Bucky’s best friend? Was Bucky his? 

Gods, he had so much to catch up on. He hadn’t even realized he’d missed a thing, yet it appeared he’d missed a lifetime.

Natasha and Clint had already filled their plates and made their way to join the Odinsons and Steve, and there Bucky was, still hanging back like some feisty heroine in a pantomime. He drew a deep breath to steady his nerves, and of course Steve chose that exact moment to look up, his eyes searching for something. Bucky felt his gaze fall on him, saw the soft smile that graced those luscious lips for a moment, setting Bucky’s soul to soar for the exultant beat of his heart, before Steve realized Bucky was looking right back at him. Then the smile fell away, chased away by the hard line of his lips, and the angry furrow of his brow as he turned away. And the Lady Jane faltered, casting a glance toward Bucky, and her face was suddenly full of sadness as she reached out a hand to touch Steve’s wrist, and he shook his head, withdrawing his hand.

Bucky felt his heart breaking then, shattered and shuttered in the space of a breath.

 _Oh, Stevie_ , he thought. _What have I done?_

&&&

Steve wasn’t really sure where the fury came from, why the idea that Bucky’s body could respond to his without knowing it was him, Steve, inside. Without knowing it was Steve he held and caressed and murmured promises into his skin. He’d long known that Bucky enjoyed sex, sought it out and shared it with an unbridled joy. He’d known since Bucky’d first presented and knotted his first alpha back when he was 15, an adventure he’d been all too happy to share with Steve with a glee that had never dimmed in the past 12 years. For Bucky did not think of his sexual experiences as “conquests.” To him, they were adventures to be shared and celebrated. He carried not one iota of shame for his adventures, and he always remained friendly with anyone who shared them with him.

It was just that …

There were a lot of adventures to be celebrated. A lot of celebrants, too. Kind of a big crowd at this point. Maybe enough to fill the Odinson ballroom, if he was brutally honest with himself.

And Steve didn’t care to be a face lost among the crowd. Not with Bucky.

Steve had never sought to contain Bucky, never wanted to dim the light that burst forth from his soul. But the moments he’d always enjoyed most with Bucky were the quiet ones, the ones reserved for just them two, the private moments where they were just Steve and Bucky, not crowned princes, not alpha and omega, not shy and reserved, and boisterous and ready to take on all comers … the moments that were cherished because they were not something that everyone could share.

Buck had offered to be his first upon learning that Steve had never gotten around to having sex. It was a kind offer, a loving offer. An offer made by one friend to another. Steve had to admit that he knew now that Bucky found him attractive. That made him feel _warmed_ , somehow. But he didn’t want just sex. He didn’t want to be an adventure to be logged and celebrated and moved on. He wanted to the _The_ Adventure. The Final Adventure.

Or none at all.

He knew that a very large part of him had hoped that this fake betrothal might have led to something more … profound, he supposed. Serious. Lasting. More than just sex. 

And he supposed he could just give in and enjoy the ride, pun intended. Bucky smelled so good, it was all Steve could do not to turn around, storm back into the suite, and take him right then and there. But that wasn’t who he was. That wasn’t who they were. If they were ever to be together, first and foremost, there needed to be love. Love and equality. There’d be no taking, only sharing. But above all else, loving.

And so Steve seethed with a roiling cauldron of emotions. With frustration. With shame. With mourning for what could be but would never be. With anger at himself before letting himself get caught in this loop. And, when he admitted truth to himself, with Bucky for thinking their relationship was so … cheap, he supposed. With disappointment.

He’d been discussing his concerns over the state of the Houses, his concerns about the slippage of designation equality under some Houses, with Lady Jane when he glanced up and saw Bucky standing there uncertainly in the doorway leading to the breakfast room. He felt something ignite in his chest, a wild, airy feeling he knew must be love, and chided himself internally for the hope that yet lived inside him. He pressed his lips together and frowned at himself, turning away. Jane laid her hand gently, comfortingly, over his, but he didn’t deserve her pity, her concern. He’d stupidly fallen in love with his best friend too long ago to change now, and he’d even more stupidly offered to act as his fiancé in the now, all when he knew that Bucky didn’t return the sentiment. Love as a friend, yes. Attraction as a good-looking alpha, yes. Love, enduring and true? No.

He breathed through his nose, willing the self-loathing down. Willing the anger to a safe place within him. He could do this. He made a commitment. They just needed to set boundaries. He wasn’t going to allow Bucky to suffer, not one person of the Houses suffer, because he wasn’t strong enough to work past his own emotions, his own weaknesses. He was Crown Prince Steven Grant Rogers of the House Rogers, for fuck’s sake. Great-grandson of Chester III, the healer of nations. There was work to be done, and he would not shirk his sacred duty.

He could feel rather than see Bucky approaching hesitantly, carrying a carved tray full of laden dishes and a mug of coffee. He paused a few feet away from the table, unsure of his welcome. Ready to go somewhere else if Steve said the word.

Without looking up, Steve raised his hand and waved him on to join them all at the table.

_He could do this._

&&&

The other end of the table was full, leaving the only seats at Steve’s end of the table. Bucky realized that Natasha and Clint had maneuvered that expertly, dropping down into the open seats next to the brothers, leaving Bucky no choice but to sit at Steve’s end. Or sit somewhere else. Even Steve in his fury wasn’t about to create that particular diplomatic incident. Although, for a heart-stopping moment, he’d truly wondered if he might.

Instead, he waved him on without looking at him.

Lady Jane, however, did look at him, and her face was fully of sympathy and worry. Her brown eyes were big and full of emotion as Bucky frowned a moment, trying to decide if it was better for him to face Steve, or to sit next to him. She decided for him by patting the seat next to her, and inviting him kindly, “Come, sit by me, Prince James. We don’t get to spend enough time together when you visit House Odinson.”

The sudden blush blooming across her sweet features told Bucky that she knew exactly why Bucky rarely spent time in conversation with her during his visits, when she was not abroad doing science. The Odinsons had learned to provide him with private suites separated from other guests, to ensure _their_ good night’s sleep (and his good time). But she said nothing on that topic, merely kept up her smile and shifted expectantly, waiting for him to be seated beside her.

He smiled gratefully in response. He was definitely going to need to get to know her better, that was certain. He’d always found her to be a remarkable woman, quick-witted and kind, with an inquiring mind that saw no boundaries. He settled his tray on the table, then pulled out the chair and seated himself with a small bow toward her.

“You honor me, Lady Jane,” he said softly but sincerely.

“You do us all honor by being such a good friend, Prince James,” she replied, taking her hand in his, and squeezing tightly. “The bonds between Odinson and Barnes are strong indeed.”

He looked at her then, truly looked, and felt his smile break wide and free. Without thinking, he lifted their linked hands and kissed her knuckles gently. That earned him a giggle from her, and a massive arched eyebrow from Thor, which morphed rapidly into a grin. Bucky relaxed then, remembering that he was among friends. Friends who knew him and trusted him. Who didn’t judge him, knowing his heart. He just had to regain the trust of the best of them.

“Everything’s been loaded,” he said then, directed to Steve. “We can pull out whenever you say the word.”

“Good.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Bucky said to Lady Jane, after taking a moment to swallow his pride. “It’s always a pleasure to spend time with House Odinson.”

“It’s always our pleasure to have you stay with us, Prince James. You, too, Prince Steven. And an extra treat to have you both. I hope this will be a regular occurrence, the pair of you breaking bread with us. We are so much stronger together, are we not?” 

Bucky still held her hand lightly, resting on the table, but Steve was studiously staring at his plate as he shoveled food into his mouth. That alone was so unlike him – he might be shy upon occasion, but Prince Steven of House Rogers was never rude.

“Prince Steven?” Lady Jane prompted.

“Huh? What?” he asked, looking utterly miserable and painfully adorable as he lifted his face from contemplation of his eggs and bacon. “Sorry, Lady Jane, I’m woolgathering I fear. What did you say?”

“She asked if we’ll be visiting House Odinson as a couple on a regular basis, _Stevie_ ,” Bucky jumped in then, feeling unexpectedly ticked off with the way the day had devolved into heavy sighs and laden looks, like something out of a badly written melodrama meant to satisfy the pseudosexual needs of the pining pubescent girl or omega. 

Steve’s head whipped sharply in Bucky’s direction, and his expression was part confused, part angry, part … aroused? Bucky smiled gently at him, not giving in to the petty urge to smirk and toy. In that moment, it took iron control, because while he might wish to be above wanting to wound Steve back, he really wasn’t. Instead, he tried to pour all the love he felt for this beautiful boy looking at him now with utter confusion. Then Steve slowly inclined his head, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Thoughtful, even. “There are many details to work out first. And I fear that the problem of House Rumlow may yet take precedence.”

“Perhaps, my friend,” Thor answered, himself thoughtful, “we should gather the Houses sooner rather than later. Perhaps it is time to convene the Council of Houses. They would come if _you_ call them.”

Steve looked up at Thor with that, effectively ending whatever soft moment had been building with Bucky. Bucky nodded to himself and put on his House Barnes hat, because this was his life, too.

Instead, he asked, “What would be the reason we could share at this point, Thor? That House Rumlow petitioned for my hand, and I rejected it because I was already betrothed? That’s not cause to convene the Council – all the Houses will be expecting wedding invitations instead!”

“Thank you,” came the quiet voice of Loki at the end of the table.

“For …?”

“For trusting us enough to confirm our suspicions. It is … satisfying … that two great Houses will be united. And two great friends as well. And I agree, a Council may not be the best idea as yet, even though the rumblings of House Rumlow, and to a lesser extent, House Schmidt, are worrying. But a gathering of the Houses for an _announcement_ , possibly followed by a celebration … perhaps that is in order? And in bringing all the Houses together, perhaps we could initiate some … conversations. And certainly if both questionable Houses are present, we could more easily take the temperature of their hearts. And their ambitions.”

Steve’s mouth worked silently, but Bucky could see the smile struggling to overtake his features. So Bucky took the lead while Steve foundered. “That sounds like a splendid idea,” Bucky agreed enthusiastically. Steve looked at him quizzically, but he didn’t contradict him. Then a little half smile seemed to form despite him, and Bucky relaxed.

“Then we are agreed,” Thor stated decisively. “House Odinson will be the site of this announcement by House _Rogers_.” He inclined his head toward Bucky and added, “Should we mention both Houses, there will be little doubt as to the content of the announcement, old friend.” Bucky nodded and grinned back at Thor, and his face blossomed in an enthusiastic grin of his own. “We will begin sending emissaries to all the Houses to join us here in say, a week’s time? Is that sufficient time for you to break the news of your betrothal to your Queen Mother and return to us, Steven?”

“I’ll make it so,” Steve agreed.

And with a decision made, and an immediate course of action defined, the remainder of breakfast passed by pleasantly.

&&&

They hugged and kissed their farewells, each of the Odinsons giving Bucky a quiet word of advice to put his free ways behind him, to which Bucky assured them all in turn that that was his intent. He didn’t hear what they said to Steve, but Steve definitely seemed more at ease, yet more thoughtful as they made their way out to the courtyard where the grooms held their mounts ready.

Sean was there with a picnic basket prepared by the kitchen staff, and a separate satchel with a chilled bottle of wine and ice to keep it cold on the road. Bucky swallowed and straightened his shoulders, smiling as he crossed the space to accept the offering. When he had the basket and satchel in hand, Sean leaned forward and said for his ears only, “You are both the luckiest of men. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness, Prince James.”

As he stepped back into a respectful stance, Bucky smiled back at him. “Thank you for your kind words, Sean. He is the world to me. I thank you for your kindnesses, one and all,” he added, extending his hand to Sean, who looked at it in surprise for a heartbeat, then took it enthusiastically and shook it.

“Gods watch over you both, your Highness. Safe travels and a happy and long life,” he added with a smile.

Bucky nodded and took the offerings over to Clint, who stowed them in the carriage.

“Old flame?”

“Now an old friend,” Bucky confirmed, glancing over his shoulder where Sean departed the courtyard and reentered the House. 

“It’s good to have those,” Clint agreed, clapping Bucky on the shoulder as he turned to mount the driver’s seat.

Bucky nodded, and walked over toward Zephyr, who lowered his head to accept Bucky’s greeting of smoothing his hand down the soft hair of Zephyr’s face and nose. “How y’doin’, boy, huh? Had a good rest?” he asked as he rested his own cheek against the horse’s. He looked up to see Steve standing there uncertainly, Valkyrie’s bridle held loosely in his hand.

He didn’t even realize he’d made a decision when he found himself right there with Steve, wrapping his arms around his neck, and pressing his cheek against Steve’s hair. “I always know when it’s you, Steve. And I promise you I’ll do everything I can to prove that to you.” Steve’s arms didn’t move to return the embrace, but Bucky figured he hadn’t earned that yet. Instead he turned his face so he could place a chaste kiss on Steve’s cheek, murmuring, “I’m with you, Steve. I’m with you.”

Then he let him go and focused on mounting his own horse. It was only after he was settled in the saddle that he looked back at Steve, to find himself still standing there, his fingers delicately tracing the spot where Bucky had kissed his cheek, his eyes wide and full of something that looked like wonder.

“We heading out?” Bucky asked with a chuckle, and Steve nodded, deftly turning to lift himself into his saddle, taking command of Valkyrie in one smooth move.

“We head out,” Steve agreed, a small smile on his face as he nudged his mount around and toward the gate, and the Park beyond.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was working on this chapter, a couple of things happened in the narrative that cleared the way for future chapters. I like how this chapter came out, and I appreciate the fact that Steve and Bucky are always such generous characters that they often take the lead for me. Loki and Jane, however, were unexpected, and I really kind of like who they are in this story.
> 
> And with this story, I hit another milestone on AO3 - over 600,000 words of fiction! Now, about 22,000 of that is my Primeval New World story, so I've still got a ways to go to have 600,000 words of Stucky. The rate I'm going, that may be by next weekend. I'm hoping to get some writing done on It Takes a Village and Ohana this week!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	7. The Seven Deadly Virtues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the travellers learn more about the turmoil to the north, and about each other as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The Seven Deadly Virtues_
> 
>  
> 
> The seven deadly virtues, those ghastly little traps  
> Oh no, my liege, they were not meant for me  
> Those seven deadly virtues were made for other chaps  
> Who love a life of failure and ennui  
> Take **courage** -now there's a sport  
> An invitation to the state of rigor mort  
> And **purity** -a noble yen  
> And very restful every now and then  
> I find **humility** means to be hurt  
>  It's not the earth the meek inherit, it's the dirt  
>  **Honesty** is fatal, it should be taboo  
>  **Diligence** -a fate I would hate  
> If **charity** means giving, I give it to you  
>  And **fidelity** is only for your mate  
>  You'll never find a virtue unstatusing my quo or making my  
> Beelzebubble burst  
> Let others take the high road, I will take the low  
> I cannot wait to rush in where angels fear to go  
> With all those sevn deadly virtues free and happy little me  
> has not been cursed
> 
> Music by Ken Darby, Frederick Loewe, Lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner
> 
> Can you find all the points where Bucky displays each of the seven deadly virtues in this chapter?

They rode in a companionable, easy silence for a while, the horses keeping a steady pace that was both pleasant and ground-eating. It wasn’t long before the ramparts of House Odinson were but a memory, the expanse of the Park stretching before them, wide, smooth road winding through the trees, along the riverside, and over the hills that punctuated the farms and villages of the path to House Rogers. Steve set the direction and the speed, and Bucky was glad to note that his friend was neither hurried, nor glum as he urged on his massive mount, Valkyrie. Zephyr had no difficulty keeping up, nor did Natasha’s Valdemaran, Kotik. Even Moya and Aeryn were not only able to stay astride, they were able to do it without rattling the carriage to pieces.

At a brisk canter, they could cross the Park in little more than a day, assuming they could change mounts along the way, and with only short breaks for rest. At the pace they were travelling now, the journey would likely take upwards of three days, assuming stops each night. Bucky wondered if they’d stop at local taverns and rent out rooms, or if Steve would elect to sleep under the stars. The carriage certainly provided that option. A more tenuous part of him wondered what the sleeping arrangements would be, if the misfire at House Odinson would mean that he and Steve would sleep separately, or if Bucky had a hope of building on their fragile accord, and repairing the breach between the two. Not that he had any designs on Steve until Steve was ready, but moments spent together privately were opportunities to reestablish their long-standing friendship, and perhaps mold it into something more.

The _more_ that Bucky had so long craved, yet denied he’d wanted because he believed it was forever out of reach.

The _more_ that he was now convinced Steve wanted as much as he did, they just had to reach a point where they could be honest with each other. No, not just honest with each other, where they could each trust what the other said. Or rather, where Steve would trust that he spoke truth when he pled his troth to him.

And to do that, he’d have to actually have the courage to speak with Steve, to regain his trust, to restore his ease, and to show him in a hundred ways how much he truly loved him.

With a little nudge to his flanks, Bucky urged Zephyr forward to where he rode abreast Steve, not quite touching, but close enough that the barest gesture would bring them in contact.

“Where are we headed first?” he asked, a simple, uncharged question that showed both interest and observation. Because Bucky knew that any destination Steve chose along this trip was strategic in value. Now that he’d shrugged off his idiot lenses, Bucky had recognized the strategist against whom he’d played – and lost – many hours of chess over the years. Prince Steven, commander of armies and master strategist, was sexy as hell, and someone Bucky hoped very much to get to know much better in the days to come. And even as his heart thudded in his chest – a sensation he hadn’t felt in a very long time – and his stomach lurched with fear at rejection – he drew up every ounce of courage he had to look at Steve and smile encouragingly, affectionately, and he hoped, believably, trusthworthily, honestly.

Steve glanced at him, a small half-smile forming in response to Bucky’s mantle of candid interest. “I keep feeling I should be making a detour to visit with Prince Luke and his triad wives, Lady Jessica and Lady Claire. They are opposite House Rumlow, but they have extraordinary intelligence resources. Lady Jessica might actually be better than Natasha at espionage,” Steve added conspiratorially with a low chuckle.

Bucky nudged Zephyr a little closer so he could reply in a low voice meant only for Steve’s ears. “Don’t let Natasha hear you say that, Steve. She might carve you a new orifice for your troubles.” Bucky flashed Steve a grin, which Bucky was gratified to see Steve return, so he pressed on, “Alerting your Queen Mother to the facts of our betrothal would seem to be the more pressing matter, don’t you think? We can plan to call upon House Cage on our way back to the Odinson’s.”

“I know, I know. I just can’t help feeling that we need to be building these alliances _now_ , not later.”

“We’re talking days, not weeks, my friend. But tell me, where is our next port of call in our betrothal tour?”

“Crossroads. I have friends there, and there’s an excellent inn that serves up an outstanding sweetberry pie. And quite trustworthy gossip.”

“Gossip. I imagine we’re not asking about the latest frolics of the young folk. You’re really worried about Rumlow, aren’t you?”

“And Schmidt. But Pierce is the one who really concerns me. His rise to power in House Rumlow was unprecedented, and since he rose to the Regency, House Rumlow has been increasingly more fractious and difficult. And the borders between House Rumlow and its neighbors have been more … porous, shall we say?”

“You think they’re flexing their muscles to annex territory.”

“I think the princeling of House Rumlow is everything you said he was and more. I think he has designs on all the Houses, the Park, too. And I am still not satisfied regarding the matter of his parents’ deaths. House Rumlow shared more than just a border with the lands of the Mad King Thanos, my friend. Story has it Rumlow’s great-grandmother carried a by-blow of Thanos, a royal bastard.”

“Making him Thanos’s heir? He’s young for such dire ambitions. My money’s on Pierce as the _eminence gris_ , my friend. He’s a shifty one, all right. I think House Rumlow is a stepping stone for Pierce’s aspirations. He’s little more than a thug with a thin veneer of gentility, but he’s a devious one with no lack of drive.”

“When your father suggested he might marry you off to that House,” Steve shook his head, his knuckles growing white where they gripped the reins. “My gods, Buck. What was he thinking? King George is normally far more savvy than that.”

“I am grateful – you have no idea _how_ grateful – that you were there to turn the conversation away from marrying me off like prized heifer. I’ll never understand how dear old Dad thinks that’s okay – it’s certainly not the way our parents raised us.

“No. I’d wager Pierce has been at them, dripping poison in their ears. No parents wants to appear like they’ve forfeited their child’s future, but Dad was pretty far gone thinking he had to turn me over to Prince Rumlow to ensure my future and the peace between Houses. Honestly, if peace among the Houses could be secured by my lily white ass, it wouldn’t be by selling me off to House Rumlow. I have other, far more creative and pleasurable ways to unite the Houses if need be –“

_Oh shit._

The open expression on Steve’s face just hardened and shuttered over. Of course, you fucking idiot, brag about your connections – your _sexual_ connections – to other courts to the man to whom you are pledged. Of course he’s going to look away and question his fucking life choices.

And then Bucky realized that Steve was chuckling, one hand held over his mouth to contain his laughter. “What are you laughing at?”

“The image of you, holding the Council of Houses, in your bedroom. Naked.”

“Oh, Steve, how wrong you are. The only person I’m ever getting naked for again in future is you,” Bucky replied with a wink, discreetly guiding Zephyr away a few paces as Steve’s mouth dropped open, his eyes darkening unexpectedly. Well, hello there, my friend, Bucky preened inwardly. “Crossroads, eh? Know it well. Dernier serves a mean draft, and doesn’t charge more than a fair price for it. We’ll get more tongues wagging if we offer up a few pitchers to celebrate our ‘secret’ news. What say you, Betrothed? Ready to make some noise?”

“I, um, yeah,” Steve stammered hotly. “It’s a good plan, Buck. If we pick up the pace, we can be there for lunch, when everyone stops by for a mid-day quaff.”

“Well, then. Race you!” Bucky cried, signaling to Zephyr his intent to fly, and off they went, the sound of Steve’s swears and Natasha’s curses and Clint’s chuckles music to Bucky’s ears. And when he heard the jingle of Valkyrie’s bridle coming closer, he just smiled to himself and surged forward.

It wouldn’t hurt for Steve to pursue him, just a bit. It might whet his appetite for what he could have once he caught Bucky, after all.

&&&

Dernier’s Crossroads stood at the common point where three previous Houses absorbed and destroyed by Mad King Thanos once touched. It had stood there for generations upon generations – so long, in fact, that there were no stories handed down from one generation to the next where Crossroads didn’t sit at the point where the River Shield cascaded over the rocks to the pool that fed the water engine that gave Crossroads its heat and light, brightening the labyrinth of cellars beneath the inn, where beer and wine rested until their time came to shine.

Over the generations, Crossroads had grown in size, until it was more than just an inn, a comfortable place to get out of the cold and elements on a long journey. It had become a little town in and of itself. The original building that was the first Crossroads still hunkered down at the point where the old Houses had butted up against each other, only today it was surrounded by a sprawl of artisans, a marketplace, and homes. Further out, on the other side of the river and the power pools, farms and grazing land stretched. South of Crossroads stood a thick forest, one that was husbanded by foresters and charcoalers, families who thinned the trees and fashioned lumber, continually replanting to ensure trees for their grandchildren’s time. Witches and wise women crafted potions and curatives from the bounty of the forest, living in harmony with all within its embrace.

Crossroads had, by default, become a community built on cooperation and kindness, and it thrived in the place where Mad King Thanos had once wielded his madness like a weapon, ripping apart families and Houses, laying waste to all he surveyed. When he’d finished, the Houses were no more, and the Park’s era of lawlessness began. But here, at Crossroads, the light of reason had always been carefully nurtured, until it finally spread, drawing more and more people to its warmth.

Steve loved Crossroads, and he loved Ser Jacques Dernier. Dernier had no pretentions to build a House – he just wanted to make beer and wine and be left to tinker in his shed with the bits and bobs he found in the forest, in the ground, flint and salt peter, things that when he combined them, created a pretty and satisfactory boom. Colored trails of light in the wakes of the booms were a pleasant by-product that the people of Crossroads enjoyed, but for Jacques, the boom was everything. 

So Crossroads grew, and with it, Dernier’s fortunes. His family, by birth, by adoption, and by handfasting and marriage, grew, too, and now his children were mostly grown with children of their own, and all took part in running the brewery, the winery, and the inn, even some of the crafts that had sprung up around the inn. Even his youngest, a precocious lad by the name of Erin who preferred his hair in long plaits, spent much of his time in the forest, and had a fascination for scents and their curative quality, looked set to create his own craft before long. It was no surprise that Erin spent so much time among the ladies and gentlemen of the forest.

Crossroads was, by any measure, a magical place, a place where the land and the hearts of its inhabitants had found a way to heal after far too much strife and bloodshed.

It was also the location of the peace accord that Steve’s great grandfather brokered, to bring the Park together as a single entity, with the benefits of membership in all five Houses that bordered it. It had been a way to stop the bickering over annexing land and people, and the worrying way that the Houses had been skirmishing into the Park – while the Park was fighting amongst itself, and foraying into the House lands.

Peace had reigned for three generations. And now House Rumlow looked poised to rip it away again. Just as Mad King Thanos had marched years before, through what became Five Points, the Park, razing whole villages and town, ripping through House holdings, and burning his way toward the coast, where he’d planned to carry his purifying fire beyond the lands of the Houses. It had only been by unifying the surviving Houses that they’d been able to put a stop to Thanos, to strip him of his crown, and end his reign of terror and destruction. Where Steve’s great grandfather had orchestrated the peace that had formed the Five Points treaty, his own grandfather had wielded the sword that had severed Thanos’s head from its body.

The story was that no one knew where Thanos was buried. But it was a secret passed down through each generation of House Rogers. As their party fetched up in the courtyard of Crossroads, handing off their mounts to the excellent grooms who cared for travellers’ horses, Steve smiled to himself.

“Penny?” Bucky asked softly, placing the flat of his hand against the small of Steve’s back, sending delicious shivers radiating out from that innocent touch.

“There are secrets here. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to share them with you.” Steve ducked his head then, frowning as he reminded himself that his betrothal to Bucky was a sham, a strategic artifice, not a true engagement.

And then Bucky said the most extraordinary thing.

“I am happy to accept whatever you are willing to give me, Steve. And I hope that one day, you will accept what I long to give you, as well.” He brushed his lips over Steve’s cheek, then moved away as Dernier came out to the courtyard with his arms outstretched in welcome.

Steve’s fingers lingered over the spot where Bucky’s lips had been, eyes widening in wonder. 

_Could he? Really?_  
  
A puzzle to be pondered at a later time, perhaps to be savored. But for now, there was libation to be shared, and tongues to be loosened. And hopefully, information to be gathered.

&&&

The ground-level bar at Crossroads was always the most raucous, the most popular. In fair weather, it spilled out into the courtyard beyond, tables and chairs and benches filled with friendly neighbors enjoying the fruits of the Dernier family labors. There were additional bars throughout the property, some that could be rented out for celebrations, other spaces more subdued that could be used for meetings and negotiations. Still more that could be intimate in their setting, little rooms where food and drink could be shared in private, and others where families could let their offspring loose to shout and cavort as they might, without disturbing any others at the inn. Over the years, Crossroads had built extension after extension to accommodate the wide and various uses its patrons had, but never allowed the premises to be used for ill. Jacques and his family made sure that no one plotted against another here, unless it was for the public good. 

As they entered into the main bar, a pretty man a few inches shorter than Bucky came up to him, enthusiastically hugging him and holding his attention, his hands resting on Bucky’s shoulders. He moved slightly to make the embrace more intimate, and Bucky smiled, but placed his palm on the man’s chest, holding him at bay. He shook his head, not losing that smile, and the man seemed disappointed, but lifted himself up on tiptoe to kiss Bucky gently on the cheek, clasping him on the arms, and turning away. Bucky seemed quite at ease, as though the encounter were commonplace, nothing to be concerned about. And yet, the man who’d greeted him seemed disappointed.

Steve willed himself to be invisible and small again as he slid through the crowd. Strangely, even though he was hale and whole, and far larger than he’d ever expected to be, he could fall back into the mindset of the scrawny young boy everyone overlooked because he was so tiny and frail. He slipped through the crowd unremarked, and caught up with the man a few minutes later. He was about their age, attractive and leanly built. He looked like someone who could move swiftly, deftly, and Steve wondered if he might not be a courier for one of the Houses. He tapped him on the shoulder gently, and offered his sweetest smile when he turned around.

“Oh, my, you are a beautiful one,” the man exclaimed enthusiastically. “Perhaps my luck has changed today after all,” he added with a cheerful leer. “Buy you a drink, Beautiful?”

“Um, er, no, thank you. I, um, I saw you with Prince B-er James a moment ago. It looked like he said something to you that upset you. I wanted to make sure you were all right,” Steve offered, even as it sounded incredibly lame in his own ears.

“Ah, Prince James,” the man sighed. “A lovely man, and a generous lover. I was quite excited to see him here at Crossroads again – he doesn’t visit often, but when he does – woo! But alas, he’s off the market. Seems he’s found his one true love after all. And worse luck, it’s not me,” he added with a sorrowful expression. Then he perked up, “But you could turn my sad heart glad again, Beautiful. Could I interest you in a tumble?”

“I, er, uh, well, um –“ Steve stammered, feeling his face flame like he was diving into the sun.

“Steve! That’s where you’ve gotten to – oh. Brendan. I see you’ve met my, um, my –“ Bucky faltered as he came up behind Steve and placed his hand on Steve’s waist, fingers curving down over his hip bone, again sending electricity sizzling through Steve’s veins.

“Your _Steve_ ,” Brendan answered faintly, his eyes widening as he took in the two princes standing side by side. Then the penny dropped . “Oh. Oh, gods! I apologize, Prince Steven. I didn’t realize. I hope you will forgive my forwardness – I wouldn’t complain if you took me up on it, of course, but please forget I said a word if you choose –“

Brendan’s word vomit was just the thing to give Steve back his voice, and the pause was enough for him to feel his feet under him properly again. So he responded with a cool yet friendly, “It is I who must apologize – Brendan, is it? I accosted you under false pretenses, and did not introduce myself properly. I thank you for your candor. You have no idea how helpful you have been. I hope you find someone to make your sad heart glad again,” he added with a smile. “If not this day, then perhaps tomorrow.”

“I, um. Yes. Thank you. That is very generous of you, Prince Steven.” His eyes dropped to where Bucky’s hand curled around Steve’s hipbone, resting there like it belonged there. Steve was struck with how comfortable it was to feel the strength and heat of Bucky’s body, so close, so calm, so ready to stand by him. The connection wasn’t lost on Brendan, apparently. “And may I wish you both good health, and a long life together.” He turned toward Bucky and smiled, a genuine smile. “A love match is rare among the Houses. Trust you to find one.”

“I, um, that is to say, we’re not –“ Bucky stammered, drawing his hand away from Steve’s hip, and with it the delicious warmth that had been settling into Steve’s bones. 

As much as Steve enjoyed seeing smooth Bucky Barnes tongue-tied and hung by his own words, he saw this as an opportunity that they could not afford to waste. “What my friend means to say is that an official announcement has not yet been made. My Queen Mother has yet to bless the match. So we would appreciate your discretion, Brendan. In the meantime, why not join us for a drink, hmm? I would love to hear what you think about the state of the Houses. I imagine you travel quite a bit – you have the look of someone who moves readily from place to place.”

“Why, yes, I’m a courier. I’m a resident of the Park, so I can easily move to and from the lands of the Houses. I’ve delivered a missive or two to House Rogers over the years, but alas, none recently. Nor to House Barnes. I wouldn’t mind an opportunity to toast your healths, your Highnesses,” he added with a flirtatious grin.

&&&

“So, a courier, then,” Bucky asked, grinning into his wine.

“Yes, your Highness. If you want something delivered, I know the best routes. Fastest, safest, least likely to be … well, least likely to be _delayed_ , shall we say,” Brendan boasted, lifting his own mug of beer in toast.

Steve clinked his glass against Brendan’s mug, and watched shrewdly as Brendan drained it in one go. He gestured to the bartender, one of Dernier’s brood, and the mug magically filled again with beer. Brendan lifted it in salute to Steve, and grinned over the foam. “What do you beautiful men want to know?”

“Know?”

“I can smell an interrogation from a league away. One has to, in my line of work. Sometimes what I’m asked to carry from place to place is worth more than a man’s life. Couriers are used for more than just delivering love letters and Yule gifts, you know.”

Steve grinned at him then, clinking his glass against Brendan’s mug again. “You’re right. With a potential alliance between Houses, I’m curious as to the temper of the other Houses you might visit.”

And so they spent a pleasant and somewhat informative hour or so, listening to Brendan share his opinions of the various Houses, their support staff, their trade routes, and their inns – most especially their breweries and pour houses. As he spoke, Steve caught sight of Natasha slipping through the crowd, and she looked up, catching his eye. She smirked at him, nodding toward Bucky sitting so close to him, his arm looped through Steve’s and his head close to his as they listened to Brendan drone on. He was entertaining, but he didn’t know how to filter intelligence for shit, giving information about fermentation times just as much weight as conflicts at court.

Steve merely raised an eyebrow at Natasha and she seemed to vanish suddenly, leaving only the after-image of her laughter hanging in the air. That woman was a witch, Steve was sure, or a spirit of the forest. Whatever she was, he knew they’d be getting a full debrief from her and Clint later in the evening, when they retired to more private accommodations. And Natasha would expect response in kind.

Finally, Brendan seemed to have run out of funny anecdotes, and was glancing up at the menu presented in chalk above the bar. Steve offered to add some food to their gathering, and Brendan smiled shyly, nodding. They placed their orders, then settled back into the rhythm of their conversation, keeping it light while they allowed themselves to enjoy the excellent repast provided to them.

“You haven’t mention Rumlow or Schmidt. Your travels don’t carry you there?” Bucky asked after they’d finished, taking a sip of his wine, and smiling as he savored the vintage.

“I don’t allow them to,” Brendan stated flatly, taking a fortifying sip, then another, then a deeper draught of his beer. He slammed the mug back down on the surface of the bar, more emphatically than he perhaps planned, because he seemed startled by his own vehemence. Steve signaled for his mug to be refilled as Brendan apologized for his outburst. “Sorry. Filthy places, Rumlow and Schmidt. People are treated horribly. And the Houses themselves,” he shuddered, eyes closing to whatever horror played against his lids. “I feared I might not find my way out again, to be honest. There’s talk, you know. Of fearsome things in Schmidt’s dungeons. Man-beasts and all manner of unnatural couplings. Schmidt’s childless omegas, his barren wives. Turned over to the creatures in the dungeons, Zola’s experiments. All without consent, mind you. So, no, House Schmidt is never a place I would willingly go,” he confessed, draining his mug again. 

Steve had the mug filled again. “And Rumlow?”

“Horrible child. His own parents feared him. And look where that got them. D’you know there’s not even a stone to mark their burial plot? Nothing. His own parents, royals. Even a pauper will place a marker, a scratched stone, even, to mark the place a loved one rests. Not Prince Brock. And Regent Pierce,” Brendan added a gagging noise. “A serpent has more personality, but is no less likely to eat you alive.”

Steve leaned forward on his forearms, alarmed. Bucky unlinked their arms and sat straighter in his seat, but he leaned in toward Brendan as well. “You were afraid. Of what?”

“That if any missive I carried displeased them, I might pay the ultimate price. I’ll not take that risk for anyone unawares, your Highness. If I’m to die on the job, I want to know why, and I want that fight to be my fight. But Prince Brock takes offense where there is none, lashes out with terrible ire. No, sir, I do not plan to put myself in the way of that brutality ever again.” He pulled up his sleeve, revealing a nasty, crenellated scar. Steve realized it was a burn, and the pattern from a grate.

“He did that to you?”

“For delivering a letter telling him that something he desired would be _a week late_. He’s spoiled and he’s mad. He wants what he wants, and he won’t take no for an answer. And he thirsts for power beyond the boundaries of his House.”

Steve fell back in his seat, aghast, his hand automatically rubbing over his lips and chin. Pietro. Pietro had been sent to tell Prince Brock that Bucky would not wed him. He knew Pietro, and his twin sister Wanda. Great kids with big hearts, devoted to each other and the House Barnes. Pietro was the more outgoing of the two, quick-witted and wry, but Wanda was the stronger, quiet and determined. 

Winnie had sent Pietro ahead to break the news to House Rumlow.

Prince Brock practically crippled Brendan for delivering news that something he wanted would be delayed.

How would he react to news that something – some _one_ – he wanted would not be his?

What news might they have to carry back to Wanda, he wondered?

Bucky’s fingers touching Steve’s wrist gently snapped him back to the now. “C’mon, Steve. He doesn’t really want me. He was just posturing,” Bucky said softly, trying to soothe Steve’s sudden queasiness.

“ _You_? Oh, no, Prince Brock _wants_ you. He would often question me about news I’d heard of you. I never let on I knew you, of course. And that we – well, I never let on that I knew you. But his obsession with you is both enormous and unhealthy. He wants to birth a dynasty through you.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me before?”

“It’s hardly pillow talk, James,” Brendan scoffed. “And besides, I never thought you’d need to know. If I found out someone like him had those kinds of designs on me, I certainly wouldn’t sleep well again!”

“Gods,” Bucky nearly sobbed, and it was Steve’s turn to support him, his arms automatically going around his waist to pull him close, then draping his arm around his shoulder, holding him closer to Steve’s scent glands as he tried to pour out encouraging, loving pheromones. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Brendan apologized, looking stricken at the way that Bucky reacted.

“House Rumlow petitioned for James’s hand,” Steve said softly.

“Oh my gods,” Brendan breathed. “House Barnes didn’t consider the petition, did they?”

Bucky nodded miserably, his nose pressed into Steve’s neck, breathing deeply.

“Well, then, it’s good you two have each other. Once you’re bonded, it won’t matter what Prince Brock wants. And you two – my gods, you are beautiful together. Your babies will be breathtaking. I often imagined you ripe with child, Prince James.” He shuddered pleasurably.

Steve practically fell off his stool at Brendan’s dark-eyed admission of his deepest fantasy about Bucky. But Bucky’s reaction forced him to his feet as his friend bolted out of his embrace and stood there, practically vibrating with anger.

“I’m no brood mare. No more than anyone who can bear children should be.”

“No, of course not, I meant no disrespect. I … just happen to have a fantasy, I would never have … no, it’s not that you’re omega, James. I could easily have the same fantasy about Prince Steven here, your strapping alpha –“

“I think you may be digging yourself a deeper hole, Brendan,” Steve chuckled, himself trying to banish the image of Bucky gravid with their child. And then of himself in the same shape. Sometimes he missed the softness of youth, the way he was before science and puberty helped him become so much harder than he’d ever expected to be, so the image didn’t dismay him, actually.

And Bucky was laughing, perhaps his head filled with images of Steve, swollen and waddling, and cursing at Bucky for getting him that way. Their eyes met and they both burst out laughing.

Brendan seemed confused at first, but unwilling to question his good fortune, so joined in hesitantly, even as he started to back away.

“Well, I highly recommend taking that image and tossing it in the next midden heap you find, Brendan. There’ll be none of that,” he chuckled, wiping the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes. “You hear me? None of that!”

“All right, all right! I can take a hint. We can adopt, or use a surrogate. I don’t have to pass the House down through the bloodline, after all.”

“Exactly,” Bucky agreed, laughter still in his voice. To Brendan, he said, “Thank you for your honesty, Brendan. You’ve always been a good friend to me.” He held out his hand then, and Brendan smiled, a sweet and delighted smile as he took the hand, squeezing it gently.

“You’ve always been a good friend to me, as well, Prince James. I have to admit that as interrogations go, this wasn’t bad.”

“Then perhaps you could answer one more question for us. If someone’s been taken at House Rumlow, where would they be kept?”

Brendan turned ashen at the question. “I don’t know that they would be. Kept, I mean. I’ve never heard of prisoners at House Rumlow. Not much of survivors, either.”

&&&

They’d bid farewell to Brendan, made their way casually through the crowds at the inn, picking up snippets here and there, more gossip, more complaints, more concerns. House Rumlow was making the people of the Park nervous. House Schmidt, less so, since that House sat on the other side of Rumlow, and thus was buffered. But all seemed to agree that Schmidt had turned into a House of horrors, and no one wanted anything to do with the mad King Johann.

Steve wondered if House Schmidt had harbored a by-blow of Thanos as well. Thanos’s seat of power had been in the northwest corner of the realms, backed against the mountain range that cascaded down the edge of Carter, Lang, and Rogers before it flattened into the rolling hills of the vineyards of Falsworth, and finally to the rich farmlands of Jones. Thanos’s seat of power was nothing more than a crater today, a broken expanse of glassy black rock. The refugees from Thanos had flowed south and east, many of them having been taken in by Schmidt and Rumlow. Steve felt a pang of pity for those who’d exchanged one madman for another.

By the time they met in their suite of rooms, Steve was feeling the day weigh him down, and wanted nothing more than a long soak and a dreamless sleep. He’d been sure to ask for a room for Natasha and Clint together, and two rooms for him and Buck. He could see that Bucky was disappointed to be remanded to a room by himself, but truth be told, he didn’t want tongues wagging about the two princes shacking up on the road, at least until he’d had a chance to talk with his mother. It was one thing at a friend’s House, it was quite another in a public place.

The rooms shared a common area where they sat in comfortable, over-stuffed chairs, in the warm glow of the electric light generated by Dernier’s water wheel. Electricity was gradually moving to the Houses, fostered in large part by Stark Pere and Fils as they invented more new and amazing things to lift burdens and improve people’s lives. That’s not why they invented them – they couldn’t help themselves. But so far, the end result was improvement, like the hot water at House Odinson. Crossroads boasted the same device, and Steve glanced with longing toward the bathing room.

“Go on,” Bucky urged. “A long soak’ll do you good. Where to tomorrow?”

Steve hadn’t forgotten about Pietro. But learning of Brock’s obsession with Bucky, he was loathe to put him anywhere near the borders of House Rumlow. He’d asked Natasha to ask if anyone had come across Pietro, either en route to Rumlow, or returning, but no one had. Not surprising, as Pietro tended to move fastest by avoiding populated areas. But still, he’d sleep better if someone had seen him, especially on his way home.

“Dugan’s,” Steve said at last. “He’s the closest thing the Park has to a leader. And he’ll skin me if I don’t stop in to let him have a chance at beating me at cards.”

“Cheated him again, huh?” Natasha grinned from her spot cuddled up against Clint’s side.

“I don’t cheat,” Steve replied archly. “I just happen to have weirdly consistent luck playing against him. _I_ don’t even understand it.”

“It’s because Dugan can’t play cards to save his life. It’s like someone put a curse on ‘im, and he just sucks at cards,” Clint posited, his fingers toying idly with Natasha’s hair.

“Tell ya what – I’ll throw a game his way. I’ve never played him before. He can just assume I’m a worse player, give ‘im a thrill. Think that’ll sweeten him up enough for whatever you need from him, Stevie?”

Steve chuckled. “Maybe. Dugan’s a generous soul, but he doesn’t like to lose. Okay, he’ll suspect it if I throw the game, but if you do, he has no context. I won’t tell him you’re a shark if you don’t.”

“Just because I won your pants off you when you were 15 doesn’t mean I’m a shark.”

“Maybe I threw _that_ game,” Steve suggested, waggling his eyebrows. Bucky gasped softly, his lips parted, and Steve felt a jolt of arousal that he quickly quelled.

“Maybe we should play again, just we two,” Bucky replied, his voice low and dangerous.  
  
“Maybe …” Steve demurred. He sighed and lumbered out of the chair, stretching. “Your friend was very helpful today. We gonna meet up with more people like him, you think?”

Bucky stood, too, and took a step closer so that his mouth was very near Steve’s ear. “I may have many past lovers, Steve. But there’s only one person I want for the future. Forever. I promise you that.”

Steve felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs, and he turned his head slowly to look into Bucky’s eyes, warm and soft and full of something Steve didn’t think he’d ever seen there before.

Buck had been in lust more times than Steve could count. 

But was this the face of Bucky Barnes _in love_?

_With him?_

The world tilted, and he felt breathless and giddy and ready to spiral off into the sky. “Okay,” he breathed.

“Okay?” Bucky asked, one eyebrow lifted inquisitively.

“Okay,” Steve repeated, adding a small nod. He felt Bucky’s fingers gently touching his, as a sweet smile spread across Bucky’s face.

“Okay, then. Take your bath. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Steve nodded, and turned to go, not missing the self-satisfied smirks on the faces of Natasha and Clint. So he did what any adult heir to a House would do. He stuck his tongue out at them, and sashayed into the bathing room, where he pressed against the closed door, closed his eyes, and silently screamed. If he’d been alone in the suite, he would have danced, too.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm actually working to an outline at this point, since I've got the story mapped out against songs from _Camelot_. Some chapters will be longer than others, but I am planning another eight chapters after this one. Now, I've got a terrible track record about keeping to a planned number of chapters, so we'll see how this goes. But there are only so many songs in _Camelot_ , so I'm kind of forcing myself to behave.
> 
> In the meantime, next chapter promises to be a doozy. :)


	8. Madrigal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the plot becomes clearer, and we learn the fate of Pietro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, yes. I did add another chapter to the total. Methinks there be smut in the next (not this) chapter. So, y'know, you're welcome. :)

The next day dawned clear and bright, but a grumbling gray on the far horizon promised a less hospitable climate by nightfall. The quartet broke bread with Dernier and his nearest clan in Dernier’s own quarters, and Steve had the opportunity to speak quietly with the patriarch while Bucky chatted with his children, and Natasha and Clint played with the little ones, ears sensitive to anything the adults might inadvertently drop.

“Aye, I don’t like what I hear comin’ from the north. _Mon dieu_ , they’ve always been a little odd up there, but since that Regent stepped in, House Rumlow’s become positively peculiar. And everyone’s starting to close their borders to Schmidt. We’ve never had a need for border guards, but I’m not alone in thinking that maybe we should have an outpost or two along the border with Rumlow.”

“It’s that serious, then,” Steve said, sipping from his coffee.

“It could be. I hear House Stark will allow travel to and from, but their outpost guards are generally trying to talk anyone going into Schmidt or Rumlow to rethink their travel plans. Take the long way round. Go home. Too many tales of travelers entering the House lands and never being seen again.”

“Never being seen again. I meant to ask you – Pietro Maximoff, the courier for House Barnes – have you seen him recently?”

“Why, yes. He stopped by two days ago, on his way – _merde_. He was on his way to Rumlow, wasn’t he?” Steve nodded soberly. “He didn’t say – he may be a bit wild, but he’s discreet and good at his job. But he should have been back by now. Hell, he should have been back yesterday, before you and Prince James arrived.” Dernier rubbed at his face, an involuntary gesture, cursing under his breath. After a moment, he straightened, drew his hand away from his mouth and stared at it. The eyes he lifted to Steve were not the sparkling, mischievous eyes of only minutes before.

Steve sat back in his seat, laying his fork down carefully. Dread coiled, low and hungry, in his gut. Until now, his concerns about Pietro had simply been the product of an overactive imagination. But the look in Jacques Dernier’s eyes … “You’re really worried, aren’t you, Jacques?”

“If that boy had anything but news tailor-made to make Prince Brock happy, then yes. Yes, I _am_ worried. Look, all we have to go on is rumor and twice told tales. But none of it’s good. You mark my words, Prince Steven – Prince Brock will force a reckoning, long before he reaches his majority.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully, setting his palms flat upon the table and pushing himself back so he was drawn up to his full, imposing height. He looked at Dernier appraisingly for a long moment, mulling over his next step. Finally, he felt a certainty fall upon him, settling his troubled mind.

“How many can you muster?”

Dernier looked at him in open-mouthed shock. “How many?” he repeated nervously.

Steve inclined his head once. Dernier swallowed reflexively.

Steve allowed himself a small smile. What he was asking was treason, he knew. Part of the pact that had created the Park and retained the peace was the commitment that the Park would never raise an army of its own. As a member of all five Houses bordering its lands, it had the right to call forth the use of and be protected by the armies of each of the Houses, but it could not raise its own. Nor could its people join any of the five armies ringing it. In this way, the Park remained non-combatant and did not, on its own, alter the balance of power among the Houses. And in return, the fact that the Park populace was a member of each House meant that no House could wage war through its lands – they would, in effect, be waging war on their own citizens. Such an act was anathema to the Assembled Houses.

In practical fact, the Park had a population as large as any three Houses combined, with the largest undefended border of them all. To keep energies properly directed, various city-states within the Park hosted tourneys and challenges so that young and old alike could hone their skills and compete against each other for honors and bragging rights.

That was the official reason for the tourneys, and many muddle-headed and House-proud among the Houses were happy to accept it as the simple, unlayered truth.

Anyone who didn’t recognize the potential for a ready-made army in that network of competitions, the guilds and the craftholds … well, they just weren’t paying attention, or they lacked imagination to an alarming degree. Or they were so smug and so blindly assured of their own comfortable might, they really didn’t deserve their position in society.

Odinson, Cage, Rogers, and Carter all shared borders and maintained excellent relations with the Park. Jones, Stark, Lang, Falsworth, Barnes, and May might not share borders with the Park, but they recognized the value of peace and mutually beneficial trade. 

Rumlow and Schmidt seemed to recognize no rights but those they imposed on others, and their borders were simply suggestions that they tested regularly. He knew from both the Odinsons and Peggy that both their borders had fallen victim to more incursions over the past year, and both Houses had instituted more regular patrols along their frontiers.

So to expect the Part to lay awaiting an invasion without preparation … well, that was folly. And Steve knew that men like Dernier and Dugan might prefer the simple life, but neither were men of folly.

Nor were they keen to put themselves in the way of accusations of treason.

“You know what you’re asking, Prince Steven. The Accords –“

And there it was. The moment when Steve had to commit to this course of action that had been swirling around him, guiding his feet forward. In point of fact, he would have always been willing to be Bucky’s betrothed, fake or not, but the opportunity such an alliance presented in this perilous time … yes, he had to admit to himself that he used Bucky as much as Bucky used him. And in a flash of clarity, he realized that a fair and honest conversation was long overdue between them.

But for the moment, history awaiting his answer.

He knew what he was asking. He was asking the Park to commit treason, to break the Accords and illegally raise an army in an undeclared war against one of the Houses to which it owed allegiance …

“The Accords may have to be revisited should one of the signing Houses break its faith,” he replied, feeling the weight of destiny settled around his shoulders, fasten around his stomach, and weigh him down. Was this how Chester had felt before him, when he’d negotiated the Accords in the first place? No matter. Steve knew in his heart that this was the right decision. They needed to stand up against the encroaching darkness, and push it back, contain it once and for all.

“Yes,” Dernier breathed out, a calm settling around him as he took in the full import of Steve’s words. Of Steve’s words, and the reality of who Steve was, the House, the history he represented.

Steve started to speak, then thought better of it, clapping his mouth shut while he considered his next words carefully. Finally, he looked into the sunlight drenched breakfast room, where Bucky sat surrounded by Dernier’s family, his face alight with a grin as he laughed over some story one of the others shared. And he had his answer.

“Pietro didn’t say he was traveling to Rumlow. He didn’t say what news he carried, either, did he?”

“No, of course not. It would have been a terrible breach of ethics. He knew better than to say, I know better than to ask.”

“Indeed. What I’m about to tell you is … well, it’s confidential. At least for a few more days. You see, Prince James and I are betrothed.” The delighted squeak from Dernier made him chuckle. “Pietro was traveling to House Rumlow to inform Prince Brock that his petition to marry Prince James was rejected because Prince James was already taken.”

“Oh no. That is … poor Pietro. Prince Brock does not accept anything that … ugh. Poor Pietro. He was a good lad.”

“He’s not gone yet. Not until I see proof with my own eyes. I’d have to bear witness to carry the news to his sister, Wanda.”

“She is a seer, is she not? If the deed is done, no doubt she knows already.”

“She is gifted, yes. Powerful even. But their bond … I suspect it would transcend death. I would prefer that Pietro cheats death, however. Tell me, Jacques – are there any tournaments slated for the lands nearest Rumlow?”

Dernier was silent for a moment, chewing thoughtfully as his face morphed from furrowed concern to knowing conspirator. “Not yet, but I’m sure we could arrange for it. The villages closest to the border would welcome a gathering of the Park’s finest, no doubt.”

“No doubt. And I was thinking …. When Prince James and I have told my Queen Mother, and she has consented to the match … I would very much like to carry his favor into the tournament field here, say, in three, four days’ time? Would that be enough time to gather the local competitors?”

“Only the locals?”

“A tourney near Rumlow, another here. We head to Dugan’s next.”

“Ah. Then, yes, I think we could plan a tourney in honor of your betrothal – not that anyone will know that’s the purpose, of course,” Dernier added with a tense grin that looked more death mask than joyous for Steve’s news. “But if I call, they will come, this I promise you. And I’ll set one of my sons-in-law to organize a gathering nearer the north. Shall I invite the Houses to the South? They’d be put out if they miss the fun.”

“Princes Thor and Loki Odinson are already sending word for a gathering at their House. They’re keeping mum, but it’s so we can announce our engagement to the _assembled_ Houses.”

“Events are moving fast, I see.” Dernier paused for a moment, settled back in his seat and steepled his fingers to look over them at Steve, apparently thinking. The sudden lull in conversation, the fraught silence between them made Steve worry that perhaps he’d pushed too far, that Dernier would rather stay out of the fight that was inevitably coming for them. That Steve might have just violated the Accords, and would be brought before the assembled Houses for reprisal, not forming an alliance to hold back a threat to them all.

Then Dernier glanced over to where his children joked with Bucky, then to his grandchildren who played with Nat and Clint. A small smile curved the corner of his mouth as he turned again to look up at Steve. He nodded once, a decisive move that belied his earlier hesitance. “That is for the best, I think. The safety of the Park, the integrity of the Accords … yes, I think this is smart.” Dernier paused then to grin at Steve, leaning across the table to rest his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Your great grandfather would be proud of the man you’ve become, Prince Steven. He’d be proud of how you preserve his achievement, how you are committed to the well-being of the people.”

“Thank you, Jacques. I value your counsel, and your friendship.”

“And I am glad for you, Prince Steven.” He nodded toward the breakfast room and the way that Bucky interacted with the others, the way he brought energy into the room, sharing it with generosity and wit. “Prince James is a lively lad, but he’s loyal and kind. And where you’ve been friends so long, he’ll make you a grand mate, I’m sure. You have so many advantages that so many royal couples lack. It’s not often you get to make a love match with your best friend.”

“No, we’re not, that is to say –“

“Don’t worry, Prince Steven. I’m pretty certain it’s mutual. A little advice from an old married man. Wake up each day and promise yourself you’ll do the best you can to make your mate happy. And then just do it. There’s no mystery to a happy marriage. You just have to want it bad enough to make it happen.”

Steve ducked his head and chuckled, nodding to himself. “I’ll keep that in mind. Is that the same advice you’d give Bu – er, Prince James?” 

“Yes. I’ve never seen a pair so well matched as you two. Omega equal to his alpha in every way. Who knows? You two might just inspire a revolution.”

&&&

“So, you and Jacques looked like you were getting on well,” Bucky commented as they led their mounts two abreast out of the precincts of Crossroads. With all the homes, shops, and craftholders, the place was becoming more and more labyrinthine with each passing year, and it took some concentration to pick their way through the streets toward the open road to the west. The horses, and the carriage trailing behind them, clattered on the worn stones of the roadway, adding to the cacophony that was daylight in Crossroads.

“Yes. We’re old friends. But more than that, he confirmed that Pietro was here two days ago, on his way to Rumlow.”

“Two days,” Bucky repeated, nudging Zephyr to press in closer to Valkyrie’s flank, a move that earned him a mild side eye from the massive mount, but no aggression. Rather like his rider. Bucky’s knee brushed up against Steve’s, and Bucky had to bite back the moan that nearly fell unbidden from his lips. His dedication to monogamy was beginning to take its toll on his resolve, when a mere brush, and a fully clothed one at that, was enough to inspire the bolt of arousal that sung through his blood. He shook his head to clear it and leaned in closer, pitching his voice so only Steve could hear. “If he came through here two days ago, then he should have been back through here before we arrived –“

“And he was not. I worry,” Steve agreed, reaching over to pat Bucky’s hand where it rested on the pommel of his saddle. He lifted his other hand and rested it over Steve’s, squeezing lightly.

“As well you should. And my father had thought to marry me into that den of horrors … I think perhaps a serious discussion is long overdue. I was flippant when Mom and Dad brought up the proposal, but I’m beginning to worry about Dad’s judgment, Steve. Surely a monarch would do better to vet a potential suitor for his child than my father did!”

“That may be – I wonder now if King George has an advisor who might be better employed elsewhere. But my immediate concern is that House Rumlow has the teeth of the Park on edge, and bracing for something to happen. And whatever that something is, it’s happening soon.”

“So what’s our next step?”

Steve glanced shyly at Bucky, the blue of his eyes filtered through the gold of his lashes. He smiled to himself, and pulled his hand back to steady it on the pommel of his own saddle. “Make for Dugan’s, and then to House Rogers.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow at Steve and smiled as he leaned forward to stroke Zephyr’s cheek, missing the heat and the comfort of Steve’s hand already. “Fair enough.” He glanced away and then straightened, taking in his surroundings. Steve could be distracting, it was true, but this was … well. It makes sense to make for Dugan’s. So why are we travelling toward the north exit of Crossroads?”

“We’re not!” Steve protested, but he pulled back on Valkyrie’s reins to halt his progress; Bucky followed suit, giving him an opportunity to really look at where they were. “We’re – oh. No, this isn’t the direction I’d planned to go. No, we need to head back.”

They made to reroute, explaining to Nat and Clint that they’d gotten turned around. It was more difficult for Clint to reverse direction with the carriage, and he had to promise to catch up with them when he had a chance to backtrack. Nat stayed with the Princes, and Bucky gave her a wry smile. She could trust her partner and husband to take care of himself, but she wasn’t about to let her charges out of her sight.

They hadn’t gone far when both Steve and Bucky doubled over with cramps, and Natasha wasn’t faring much better, clutching at her gut and frowning mightily.

“What the hell?” she swore. “You don’t think Dernier poisoned us, do you?”

Steve gritted out, “Never! He’s an old friend and an important ally. No. Besides, how could we all three have a reaction like that at the same time?”

Bucky hugged at Zephyr’s neck, trying to swallow down the nausea, fight through the pain. “We could if someone else is causing it.”

“What?” Steve demanded as Natasha scanned the area around them for threat.

Bucky pressed on, grimacing as another wave of pain rolled through him. “Like a distraught sister, perhaps?”

“Wanda?”

Bucky nodded. “She’s gifted, there’s no question, but no one really knows how. I doubt even she does. But don’t you think if something’s happened to her twin, she knows it? And she’ll use whatever resources she can to help him?”

Steve stared silently at Bucky then, the moment stretching thin as the quiet between them seemed to swallow all sounds of the busy town around them. Then, without breaking eye contact, Steve nudged Valkyrie back toward the north, and Bucky nodded, shifting Zephyr in the same direction. “Let’s try it.” Bucky jerked his head northward to Natasha, and she followed wordlessly.

It only took a few steps back on their old path for the pain to ease, and the nausea to recede entirely.

“Clint’s still up ahead, he hasn’t found a place to turn around. Let me pass,” Natasha told them, bringing Kotik abreast and then pushing forward. She came up behind the carriage and pounded on its roof, demanding Clint’s attention, then carefully edged up beside it. Neither Steve nor Bucky could hear the exchange, but Bucky could imagine it easily. As succinctly as humanly possible, Natasha had just conveyed the whole story to Clint, and Clint was already pushing forward, letting Natasha drop behind. She stayed there on the side of the road, waiting for Steve and Bucky to catch up so she could take the rear.

“I don’t think we have a choice but to move forward toward the north. But I’m not taking anymore chances. Single file, boys. We don’t want to give whatever’s out there too easy a target!”

&&&

They’d been travelling for several hours, and the sun was high in the sky. Each time they veered away from the path set for them, they were beset by cramps and nausea, and so they stuck to the narrow track defined for them. More than once, Steve prayed to the gods that watched over them that he was right, that it was Wanda guiding them, and not some necromancer in House Rumlow or Schmidt’s employ.

By the time the sun started to angle toward the horizon, they were all getting sore and hungry, but they quickly learned that delay was not tolerated, either. With a quick break to relieve themselves and share around sandwiches they could each from the saddle, the party resumed their trek toward their mysterious goal.

The sky was just beginning to burn on the western edge of the horizon when Steve felt the first pricklings of being watched. He held up his hand to slow their progress, causing Nat to nudge Kotik up to stand beside him. 

“Can you feel it?” he asked softly.

“Like there are a million eyes crawling up and down my spine? If that’s what you’re talking about, then yes,” Nat agreed grimly.

Ahead, Clint had halted the carriage, and with a few low commands to Aeryn and Moya, he slid down off the driver’s seat and walked stiffly back to join them.

“I feel like there’s something just ahead,” he added to the conversation.

“Something?”

“A camp, maybe. The air’s different. The animals – they’re quieter here. There’s a human in their midst,” he shrugged.

“Clint’s more comfortable with animals than he is with most humans. You boys are special,” Nat supplied with a grin.

“Okay. Something’s up ahead. Whatever it is isn’t going to let us turn back. But that doesn’t mean we’re walking into this blind,” Steve said firmly.

“We kinda are,” Bucky pointed out mildly, “but that doesn’t mean we’re not prepared,” he added, drawing his cloak back to reveal the variety of blades sheathed along the bandolier-like belt crossing his chest.

“I’ll want you to stand back, James,” Natasha said soberly.

“And I’ll remind you that I’m as well trained as you are with a knife. Better, maybe.”

“Maybe. But you are the Prince, and the object of Rumlow’s obsession. If we need to engage, we need you off the playing field. Otherwise, you’re a distraction.”

“On the field, I’m an asset,” Bucky pressed, and looked to Steve for support. As Steve scrunched his eyebrows together in that puppy dog look that Bucky had long ago learned turned his insides into mush, he had a sudden sense of clarity about what the future would hold if he and Buck were truly to wed.

Mush. And fluff. And hopefully lots of sex. But more mush than he cared to think about, he feared.

But Bucky would never sit still for someone else to ensure his safety.

Steve looked like he was about to go all alpha-y on him, and start some stupid bullshit about keeping his omega safe. 

If he did that, then he was just going to have punch Steve in the nose. He might’ve gone for the nuts, but he hoped to have plans for them at some point. Steve had already broken his nose once when they were kids, so if he broke it again, he knew it would heal.

Nose it was if he opened his godsdamned alpha mouth …

He wasn’t just a prince, he was a warrior in his own right. All the frippery, the wines and the lovers, they weren’t who Bucky was. He was a prince who’d been groomed to be a warrior-scholar king, just like Steve had been. They’d shared many of the same teachers, and had sparred together numerous times. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much. He was a formidable adversary on the field, and godsdammit, Nat and Steve both knew that.

Bucky ground his teeth waiting for Steve to speak, and he knew that he was staring a death glare to rival the worst hell demon’s visage.

Finally the scrunching cleared, and Steve shook his head. Only a few seconds had passed, but Bucky had lived years in his own mind.

“Buck can defend himself. If we separate him from us, he could be vulnerable to attack from the rear. It doesn’t make sense to throw out his skills like he’s a fainting bride in a bad melodrama.”

“You,” Bucky started, pointing at Steve and grinning, “You, I’ll keep. I’m not so sure about you, Romanoff,” he added to Nat.

“You’re my prince, my responsibility. And we know you’re the target. My entire life is dedicated to your safety, James. This isn’t a joke.”

“You’re right, it isn’t. I’ve always pulled my own weight, and I’m not about to stop now. Not when every one of us is going to be needed.”

“Fine. On your head be it. I’m holding you,” she turned to Steve and jabbed him with her index finger, “responsible for his safety. Anything happens to him, I guarantee you there will be a diplomatic incident on your royal behind, I don’t care who your great grandfather was.”

Bucky could see Steve puffing up, his eyes growing dark with the idea of protecting his omega, and Bucky slammed the back of his hand into Steve’s solar plexus, and returned the jab to Natasha. “No. I can take care of myself. You put him in danger by distracting him with my safety. We’re partners, we’re equals, and we are both capable opponents. Under no circumstances can you put him at risk for my sake –“

“Buck, I agree with you. And damn, that hurt. What’s your hand made of? Iron?”

“Hey, look guys, I agree with all the emancipation crap and all, but be quiet – someone’s coming!” Clint interjected in an urgent whisper.

And then they heard it, the bushes rustling faintly, a scuff of a shoe moving cautiously through the brush. They were silent as the branches finally parted to reveal a tall dark-skinned man with close-cropped hair and a thin mustache, his clothes torn and bloodied.

At the sight of Steve astride Valkyrie, the man’s eyes widened, his entire body sagging with relief. “Your Highness,” he breathed as his legs gave out from under him and he sank to his knees before them.

“Trip? I thought you were dead!”

&&&

After they’d helped Trip to his feet, they let him lead them to his small camp, where he’d been caring for Pietro. Pietro was in bad shape, bones in his face and hands broken, the flesh bruised, swollen, bleeding in many places. Both of his feet were battered, possibly broken. Trip didn’t look much better, exhausted beyond endurance as he was.

Bucky and Clint set about moving Pietro to the carriage. Clint was trained in field triage, so he took point on cleaning and binding Pietro’s wounds, after giving him a few sips of a pain draught that put him right out. Satisfied that Pietro was in good hands, Bucky took charge of food, pulling a stoppered bottle of clean water and the basket of comestibles Dernier’s clan had pressed upon them as they’d departed Crossroads. Meat, cheese, freshly baked bread, and a selection of fruits from Crossroads’ own orchards. Simple, filling, and very much necessary.

Pietro groaned in his drugged state, and Clint shook his head. “It’s gonna be a long time before he can eat solid food again. Heat up some of the soup, will ya? We can get some broth into him, help him keep up his strength, huh?”

Bucky nodded and grabbed the crock of soup, pouring out a cup of clear broth to warm over the small fire Natasha was tending.

The party worked in silence, Clint tending to Pietro, Steve helping to dress Trip’s wounds, Bucky feeding everyone, and Nat making frequent circuits of their camp, always coming back with more brush to add to the fire. She never let it get too big, for fear of attracting more attention than they wanted, but she never let it go out, either.

Finally Clint joined them at the fire, and accepted the plate that Bucky handed him.

“Pretty sure we know what Prince Rumlow’s answer was to the news he was too little, too late,” Clint said sourly, tucking into his food with mechanical efficiency.

Trip turned his head and spat on the ground. “Pietro’s lucky Prince Brock didn’t beat him to death. He wanted to keep him alive to give him back to _you_ as a betrothal gift,” Trip nodded toward Bucky. “Right before he marches in Barnes lands and takes ‘what’s rightfully his’.”

“You mean me,” Bucky replied stoically, but inside, his guts were roiling. Trip nodded.

“Yeah, well, Pietro might not agree that death was the worst option. Hands, face, feet – he might never walk again. We’ve got to get him to civilization and a court healer, the sooner the better,” Clint advised, still chewing, but showing no enjoyment. “Crossroads won’t do. Odinson would be best.”

“I agree. But first, let’s hear Trip’s tale, hmmm? Steve thought you were dead – how’d you end up in House Rumlow?” Bucky asked, finally sinking to the ground to sit beside Steve.

“Fury. He was worried about Rumlow – Schmidt, too. We faked my death so I could create a new identity, infiltrate House Rumlow. I’ve been there now for six months, as a servant in the castle. I was serving in the great hall when Pietro arrived to deliver his message. I saw what Rumlow did to him.”

“Prince Brock himself, not Pierce?” Steve pressed.

“Pierce was there, coaching Prince Brock. But Prince Brock is the one who landed every blow. He has a vicious temper. He whipped me a couple of months ago for spilling a few drops of soup on the table. I thought sure he’d kill your courier, Prince James.”

“But he didn’t. And he was lucky you were there.”

Trip nodded and took a bite of his dinner. “Ser Fury was right – there are horrible, fearsome things brewing in House Rumlow. And nightmares birthing in House Schmidt. They’re building an army, to take the Park, and all the Houses. I was thinking it was nearly time for me to report back, and I’d started to plan my escape. But there was no way I could leave Pietro behind.”

“And we thank you for that, Trip,” Steve said then, a heartfelt expression they all shared.

“No, you don’t understand. There was no way I could leave him behind. I actually tried. I didn’t think I could get both of us out. But something wouldn’t let me. And that something helped us escape.”

“Wanda.”

“His twin? That makes sense. He was talking the whole time, right up until I came to find you. He told me there was help nearby, I just had to find it.”

“We’ve always known she’s special, powerful, but no one – not even Wanda – knew just how special or how powerful. Well, all I can say is I’m glad she’s on our side,” Bucky added ruefully, shaking his head. “We’ve got to get Pietro to safety.”

“I agree. Clint, I want you to take Pietro and Trip to Odinson, get Pietro’s wounds cared for, and let Trip’s story be heard.”

“I have to report to Ser Fury, Highness –“

“I’ll report to Fury. Or rather, Bucky will.”

“Wait, what?” Natasha demanded then, halting her continuous circuit of the camp.

“Clint needs to get back to Odinson – from there, the brothers can send out couriers to the Houses to bring them up to speed. Nat, I need you to go to House Cage – we’ve got to bring Luke, Jessica, and Claire into this. After we meet with Dugan, I’m going to head to House Carter and mobilize Pegs’s army. And Bucky will head to House Rogers – he’ll be able to get in to see my Mother and Ser Fury without delay, to launch the legions of House Rogers. This isn’t an offensive petition gone wrong any longer. This is war.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
> 
> And wow, who knew Wanda was going to become such an important character without ever being seen so far?
> 
> I have a feeling she's going to make her presence known in the later chapters. I hadn't planned on it, but I see one of the pivotal chapters ahead changing to make room for her.
> 
> There will be a reckoning ...


	9. Entre'acte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which alliances are tested, and the breaking point seems close at hand. And then ... well, you'll have to read it to find out. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the last two chapters have really whipped my ass. I really thought I was getting to a key moment in their relationship both last chapter and this chapter, but as usual, these boys just don't know how to play nice and let the writer-person have their way. So, have some angst, some misunderstandings, some stupid boys in love, and the people who love them but have had enough of their shit.

“No.”

“Nat, look –“

“I said, _no_. It’s a simple word, James. What is it about it that you don’t comprehend, hmmm? No, Prince James, you may not travel unescorted across the Park. Do I make myself clear?”

“You do realize you work for me, right, Nat?”

“You do realize that my job is to secure your safety, right, Prince James? No matter the cost. As in, I would give my life to ensure yours is safe. So I can deal with your wittle ego getting bwuised, Prince James – it’s a healthy ego, you’ll get over it. It is _not_ an option for you to travel without security.”

“I’m as good with a blade as you are. I’m as good as you in hand to hand. I’m a better shot than you. What can you do that I can’t do for myself, Nat?”

“Watch your back. Take the shot meant for you. Die so you may live.”

“No. Steve needs you to go to House Cage. We’ve all got a mission here. My mission is to alert House Rogers, yours is to alert House Cage.”

“I can escort you to House Rogers, and then double-back.”

“We don’t have time for this, Nat. Steve is an only child, for gods’ sake – and he’s not worrying over security. Something happens to him, the succession in House Rogers is in shambles – there is no one else. Not yet, at least,” Bucky added, ducking his head shyly.

“Hoping to spawn with him, Prince James? I thought you weren’t a brood mare.”

“It’s not the same when it’s my choice, Nat. When it’s someone else’s expectation, fuck them. But if it’s something I want? I dunno. But the point is he’s it, there are no cousins or distant relatives. House Rogers dies with him. And he’s the one person who can pull the Houses together, the Park. Why are you not worried about him?”

“Because my life is pledged to _you_ , James. And you are who Rumlow and Pierce want. They get you, it won’t matter that Steve is free. He’ll give everything he has to get you back – he’d set the Houses ablaze himself if that’s what it took.”

“You’re wrong, Nat. He will always put the welfare of the nation ahead of any one person. He’s selfless and royal like that.”

“Is he? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am, Lady Romanoff. Because he gave me a mission – he respects me as an equal, a peer, and he knows I won’t let him down. That’s how I know he will always put his responsibilities ahead of any one person. As he should.”

“You’re a fool, Prince James. A lovestruck fool. You both are. The pair of you would deserve each other, if you weren’t going to take the rest of us down with you.”

Bucky looked at her curiously then, a sensation of cold taking root in his gut. Not fearful cold, but cold fury. He stood up then, drawing himself to his full height, bracing for battle. “You would do well to remember whom you are speaking _of_ , and whom you are speaking _to_ , Lady Romanoff. I may be in love, but that doesn’t blind me to the danger, or to my duty. You’d do well to remember yours. It’s never been to protect my lily-white ass, it’s been to protect the kingdom, the House. And the only way we can protect the assembled Houses, all of us, is to ensure that Rumlow and Schmidt are taken down. To do that, we need unity, we need armies. 

“I understand my role in this – I can get through to Queen Sarah more quickly than anyone else, other than Steve. I can raise the armies of House Rogers, and I can lead them. Steve will be able to get through to House Carter more easily than anyone, and he alone can convince Pegs to marshal House Carter’s forces. 

“If we were to cower in the dark like you’d have me do, Rumlow could win, and then there’d be no future for any of us. So I will say this once, and once only. You will stand down, Lady Romanoff. You aren’t my nanny, and you aren’t my mother. You are a captain in the House Barnes guard. And as such, you will conduct the business of House Barnes to the best of your ability. Your skills are needed. At House Cage. Where you are uniquely qualified to bring that House into the fold. As prince of the House you serve, I require that you undertake this mission. Are we understood?”

Natasha considered him coolly for a long moment, her eyes narrowed, speculative. Finally, she nodded once. “I wondered. Wondered if you really had it in you.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, merely cocked his head slightly to prompt her to continue.

“Kingship. I wondered. I wonder no more.”

“Are we understood?”

“Yes, Highness. We are understood. It will be my honor to represent House Barnes in discussions with House Cage.”

“Hmmm.”

&&&

“Sorry, what’d I miss?”

Clint looked up from where he was readying the carriage. “What’s up?”

“Disagreement with Nat,” Bucky shrugged.

Clint snorted, shaking his head. “Let me guess – she doesn’t want you traveling alone.”

Bucky nodded ruefully.

“She’s overprotective of you. She thinks of you as a little brother in some ways. Which – I know – doesn’t make any sense. But she gets a little weird about it. You guys good?” he asked, clapping Bucky on the arm before turning back to the carriage.

“She’s going to Cage. I’m going to Rogers. How’s Pietro?”

“Stable enough to travel. We should head out soon, see if we can make Crossroads before nightfall. We’ll claim sanctuary with Dernier’s clan, keep Pietro out of the general populace. And then tomorrow, first light, we’ll make for Odinson.”

“The report for Fury?”

“I’ve transcribed it,” Steve noted, coming up behind Bucky. “It’s all here,” he added, handing Bucky a sheaf of paper. As usual, Steve had secreted a pad of paper somewhere among his belongings, to capture his scribbles that were always more potent than the scratchings of the House artist. So, of course he had a way to record Trip’s testimony.

“I’ll read it when we stop for the night. We are stopping for the night, right? You wanted to stop in at Dugan’s –“

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll stop for the night with Dugan. It’s just … I don’t know if you should read it. The report.”

“Why?”

“There’s stuff in there about you. About what Rumlow wants. What Pierce wants.”

“With me, you mean? Afraid I’m gonna get my feelings hurt?”

“Afraid it will scar you. That testimony alone is enough to put Rumlow before the assembled Houses. Combined with what he did to Pietro, it will.”

“Steve –“

Clint cleared his throat and stepped up to the pair of them. “’Xcuse me, Prince James, but – just how pissed off did you leave my wife? I wanna say goodbye, and I want all my parts left when I do.”

“I think we came to an accord. An understanding.”

“Yeah, okay. You stay with Pietro, I’m gonna go find Nat,” he told Trip, and the young spy nodded, glancing worriedly down at the unconscious courier. “You two – looks to me like you need to have a talk. So do it.” Then Clint slipped away in search of Natasha.

“’S’all right – I got this,” Trip offered, nodding toward Steve and Bucky.

&&&

They walked a ways away from camp, toward a small stream tripping over stones and chittering in the afternoon sun. Birds and small critters shifted within the trees that closed behind them, giving them a sense of solitude, of separateness.

Steve spied a couple of small boulders that looked like they’d been cast there by a negligent swipe of a giant’s hand, and he nodded toward them to Bucky. A moment later, they were perched on the rocks, looking at each other. Steve rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, now unable to look Bucky in the eye. 

As angry as Nat had made him, now Steve made him feel frightened.

“Steve, if it’s about Trip’s report, I promise I won’t read it if you don’t want me to –“

“It’s not that. Well, it is, partially, but not you reading it or not. It’s that …” he swallowed, nearly choking, and swallowed again, took a deep calming breath before he resumed. “It’s that Rumlow wants you to possess you. Sexually, yeah. But he wants to break your spirit and possess your soul. He wants to … debase you in every way. The things Trip recorded … I didn’t know such horror existed, and this … creature … claims to love you!”

“I’m not surprised. Everything we know about him supports that. So?”

“So you are going to be at risk out there, without an escort –“

“Steve, not you, too! For fuck’s sake, I am a grown man, capable of –“

“Protecting yourself, I know. I know, Buck. I’m not saying you can’t. But Rumlow … he’s twisted and he’s sick, and he doesn’t know reason. He may never have known – I’m really starting to think the rumors that he killed his parents are true.”

“Yeah. He’s a class A creep and then some. That’s how we started all this. You, me, the betrothal. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

“And? Or is there a ‘but’ here, Steve?”

“No, no ‘buts’. I don’t think so, anyway. Just … how do you feel about me, Bucky? Really? You flirt with me, you drop innuendo, you offered me a pity fuck –“

“That was no pity fuck I offered you, Steven Grant Rogers. I’ve always wanted you, and I thought maybe for once I could have the illusion of having you.”

“Always …?”

“Since we were kids. I think I fell in love with you the day you walked through the doors of House Barnes. You’ve always been so beautiful, glowing with fire, lit from within. I wanted you before I knew what wanting meant, before either of us had presented. I wanted you, not an alpha, not anything other than Steve.”

“So how come you never said?”

“You were betrothed to Peggy at 15, Steve. I figured that’s who you wanted. So if I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want anyone. Not to keep. Nothing serious.”

“So, you’re saying … what, exactly?”

“You really gonna make me say it, punk?”

“I really think I need to hear it, jerk.”

“All right, then. I love you. I’ve loved you since the day I met you. You broke my heart when you became engaged to Peggy.”

“But when I broke it off –“

“You never looked my way. I had no idea if you were even attracted to me, to people other than Peggy. When was the last time you courted, dated, even spoke with someone with interest?”

“I only ever wanted you. But I didn’t want to be a notch on the bedpost.”

“I would never … but I can see why you might think that. But no, I meant it when I said I’d be monogamous for you. There’s no one else I’d ever want if I had you, Steve.”

“Look, I know we’re technically betrothed, and we’d agreed that would be it. But, Buck … would you do me the honor of marrying me, for real?”

“What brought this on?”

“I don’t hear you saying yes.”

“I want to make sure this is real. I couldn’t take it if it’s temporary, or just to impress Rumlow that he really has lost –“

“Well, that’s part of it. I figure if we’re married, that makes a statement for him to stay away. But given what Trip reported, I think we need to do more than a handfasting, more than marry.”

Bucky sucked in a shocked breath. “Steve, are you suggesting we _mate_?”

“No … I’m suggesting we commit to soul bond.”

Bucky sat there, shock bubbling through his system.

Soul bond. It was the most extreme form of joining. 

A handfasting was a commitment made between two people, legally binding until the pair declared the bond dissolved, at which point, they each walked away from the joining with what they brought to it in the first place. Most people chose to handfast, and throw a big party with their friends after.

Marriage was a formal joining, overseen by an officer or clergyperson authorized to bind two or more persons in a legal marriage. To dissolve a marriage was a legal endeavor, involving advocates and judges and often more mess than anyone wanted to deal with. Marriage joined houses, combined lands, blended property. Weddings were formal, crowded, and expensive affairs, normally left to the landed classes and the Houses themselves. Wedding parties could reach legendary heights of excess, bankrupting Houses and towns alike.

Mating involved both the handfasting and marriage, but added the biological component of a physical mating – the mating bites and the physical changes they wrought in a marrying pair or triad. Mating could only be done by a combination of alpha and omega participants. The mating bond changed how they could communicate, changed how they interacted with people outside their bond. A bonded omega smelled unattractive to any alpha not bonded to them, and a bonded alpha smelled equally off-putting to any omega not bonded to them. Dissolution of a mating bond required a physician’s intervention, possibly even a clergyperson, since the mating could join not only the bodies, but the spirits of the married. 

But a soul bond joined the souls of the mating pair at a level that could not be broken. Nothing could dissolve a soul bond, not even death. A soul bond could only be formed when two people were completely compatible, willing to commit to each other heart and soul, in a ritual that could be as dangerous as it could be beautiful. The ritual was arduous and demanding; if possible, it should be overseen by a mage or seer, but just like the alphas and omegas, the mages and seers were both dying breeds, becoming lost to time. 

Soul bonds were rare. Soul bonds where the participants survived the bonding were even rarer. A soul bonded individual – omega, beta, or alpha – would literally be able to repel anyone not bonded to them. If a mating bite were attempted, the soul bonded’s blood became poisonous to anyone not bonded to them.

It was the ultimate protection, and the ultimate risk.

And Steve was proposing this most extreme of measures …

“Because of Rumlow.”

“Well, yes. If we’re soul-bonded, you’ve got some protection, and I’ll know if anything’s happened to you. We’ll be linked in a profound way.”

“Yeah, a soul bond is permanent. Binding. It can’t be broken, except by death. Not even by death. The survivor doesn’t last long after the death of the partner. It’s a huge commitment, one very few people make. Because it’s fucking dangerous, Steve!”

“Only if you go into it for the wrong reasons.”

“And protecting my virtue from some crazed teenager is a right reason?”

“Because I love you. Did I forget to say that? Because it’s true. I love you. That moment I walked through the doors at House Barnes? I saw this impossibly beautiful dark-haired boy with a smile like lightning and a spirit so bright, even my weak eyes were dazzled. I never thought you’d want me, so filling Peggy’s request to be a surrogate while she worked out marrying Angie just seemed like the right thing to do. I had no idea … you never said, either, jerk!”

Bucky just sat there, staring incredulously at Steve. “Seriously. You get yourself engaged to a fine woman like Peggy for five fucking years, Steve, and you thought, what? I was gonna try to seduce you away from her? That I would somehow magically know you were interested in me while you were engaged to marry someone else? I never knew until this week that it was a sham! You never said. You never hinted. Not even after it was over, not when you were truly available, did you ever indicate in the smallest way that you were interested in me. And you have the fucking nerve to be angry with me when I told you how good you felt in my arms because I didn’t say _your fucking name_?” Bucky stood, his whole body thrumming with fury. “Let’s go. We need to get on the road to reach Dugan’s by dusk.”

“Buck, wait, my proposal –“

Bucky just stalked away, back toward camp, leaving Steve to wonder what he’d said wrong.

&&&

Bucky was like a violin string stretched too tight and ready to break by the time he got back to the camp. He couldn’t even think about what had just happened with Steve. He couldn’t hear over the sound of his own heart shattering, his world crumbling around him. He couldn’t think for the noise in his head as his blood rushed hot and frenzied.

Clint and Trip were getting Pietro strapped into the carriage to make sure he wasn’t jostled any more than they could help on the route back to Crossroads and then Odinson. Natasha was sifting through the provisions they’d hauled in the carriage, separating out the things she’d carry with her to Cage, and the belongings that would travel with each of Bucky and … and Steve. 

It hurt to even think his name.

Natasha glanced toward him and paused, becoming more thoughtful as she stared at him. Her lips pursed distastefully, she resumed her packing, moving faster to finish segregating the belongings.

“You’ll need to redo your packroll,” she told him, bending down to grab his pile and toss it to him.

“Thanks. I’ll do that right now.”

“I’ll come with.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Really think I do.”

“Really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Really don’t care. Now, admit it, I won, you’re gonna spill.”

He sighed, tossing the bundle down on the ground next to Zephyr. “Steve wants to mate. He wants to soul bond.”

“That’s great, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve always wanted. To have a wildly romantic and epic love story with Steve.”

“All this time, he’s been in love with me. Since we first met. But he chose to get engaged to Peggy for five years, and never say a word to me about his feelings.”

“To be fair, you never said a word to him.”

“He was engaged. And _he_ never told me it was fake. So I would have been a class A asshole if I’d done anything, said anything.”

“Well, yes, there is that. But mated – soul bonded – those are both pretty big steps to take. Why now?”

“To protect me from Rumlow. And oh, did I forget to mention? I love you, too, Buck. Always have. _Fucking asshole!”_ he swore, reining in his temper so he was gentle as he untied his bedroll, and took it over to a patch of soft grass to unroll it and repack it with his things from the carriage.

“Not even half an hour ago you were babbling about maybe having his baby, and now you’re ready to call thunder and lightning on his head?”

“And hail. Let’s not forget hail. Great honking balls of hail to smack some sense into that thick skull of his!”

“James, do you not want this? To be truly joined with him? Is there something holding you back?”

“All my life I’ve dreamed of being bonded, mated. I toyed with the idea of a soul bond. And the only person I ever saw as my partner was Steve. It was a fantasy, a dream. I never believed it could happen. ‘Cos Steve and Peggy. He didn’t look at me that way. But I could dream and I could pine, and it was all very … _safe_.”

“And now the reality is anything but safe.”

“And I don’t know if I can trust him. A soul bond, Nat! It could fail before it takes, if we’re not as compatible as we’d like to think. Forming the bond could kill us both. And if it does take … what if I really can’t trust him? What if this is the wrong thing to do? I’m stuck. He’s stuck. We can’t divorce a soul bond. We can’t be with anyone else – the soul bond will ensure that.”

“And that’s the point for him. If you’re soul-bonded, Rumlow could never have you. And neither could anyone else.”

“He’s a virgin, he doesn’t know what that really means. I mean, if the marriage is a sham, if he’s not really committing to being my husband, my lover, then he’s consigning me to my own personal hell. Just to thwart Rumlow. I don’t … I don’t think I can do it, Nat. I don’t think I trust Steve enough to make that leap. I don’t feel he’s shown me I _can_ trust him.”

“All of those are valid points, James. But I’m the wrong person to be making them to. You need to talk with Steve.” She considered him for a long moment before adding, “And you’re gonna have to do it before I’m willing to leave the pair of you on your own.”

“You need to get to House Cage. I need to think for a while.” He bent over the packroll, tucked in the ends, and rolled it back up, deftly tying off the rope around each end. “Sorry, Nat, I’m just gonna have to do this without you,” Bucky was saying as he straightened. Then he fell forward, face mushing into the cushion of the packroll as Natasha took a swing at his head with a cosh.

“Sorry, James. Needs must,” he heard her say matter of factly before he passed out.

&&&

The afterlife smelled good. Like home-cooked meals, and the air after a cleansing rain. The crisp scent of seasoned wood sparking in the grate, the scented sap gracing the air as the flames chased away the winter’s chill. 

The afterlife felt good, too. Fingers caressed his scalp, drawing through his hair gently, petting him, soft touches that felt intimate, warm, safe. Like cradling in the arms of his mother when he was very small, curled up with his first hound, both of them barely able to walk unassisted.

The afterlife sounded like … Steve.

“Awake?” he asked in a low, quiet tone, and Bucky felt the sounds reverberate through his head.

“Ow.”

“Natasha gave you a good thumping. It’s gonna leave a mark,” Steve pointed out with a faint chuckle lacing his voice.

Bucky cracked an eye open to reveal a dark space lit by phosphorescent crystals studding the walls. The stone walls. The stone cave walls. A quick glance around him confirmed that the cave opening was closed, only a slender crescent letting daylight filter into the cool space. Blocked, then.

“Natasha hit me,” Bucky grumbled.

“Clint got me,” Steve answered, the chuckle more evident now.

“Palace coup?” Bucky asked, grudgingly lifting his head from there it was pillowed comfortably on Steve’s surprisingly cushy thigh. Every part of Steve seemed to be surprisingly cushy, his traitorous mind pointed out. His heart berated his mind, reminding it how hurt Bucky was feeling, even as he found himself immediately missing the comfort and warmth of Steve’s body under his.

He sat up and looked directly at Steve. He was sporting a shiner that promised to swell more, and turn many colors before it faded. “Clint punched you in the face? That’s a crime against humanity,” Bucky blurted before he realized it.

Steve’s face broke into a wide, delighted smile, interrupted by a wince of pain as the crinkling of his eyes met the bruise on his face. “Trip helped. It’s a gods-damned conspiracy.”

“To put us both in a cave. Like I said, palace coup?”

“According to Nat, a timeout so we both get our heads out of our respective asses.”

“She said she was gonna make us talk.”

“Can we? Talk, I mean. I know I sprang a lot on you, and I know I’ve been a real bastard. I’ve been blaming you for my loneliness, and I never put myself in your place. It never occurred to me that you’d think my betrothal to Peggy was real. I’ve been monumentally stupid.”

“Go on.”

“You’re supposed to say, ‘no you’re not, Steve, you’re just human’,” Steve recited in a falsetto.

“No, you’ve really been monumentally stupid. I’m not gonna lie to you, Steve. Not now, not ever. Do you realize that we’ve missed out on over ten years of doing this because of your monumental stupidity?” Bucky demanded, pressing his lips against Steve’s, and kissing him with everything that he was, everything they could be.

When Bucky pulled back to look into Steve’s eyes, Steve was nodding, glazed and gasping. “You’re right. I’ve been monumentally stupid,” he replied breathlessly, leaning forward to chase Bucky’s lips, as Bucky lifted his fingers to cover Steve’s mouth.

“So. Talk now, then we tell Nat she can be on her way, and we can head toward Dugan’s. Complete the mission.”

“And then what?”

“Depends on how the talk goes. So. Talk.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually pleased with where this chapter ended. I feel the boys are finally positioned to tackle what's to come. Okay, yeah, some talking needs to happen. I don't know if I'm going to show the talking, or pick up after - I think after. We all know what their problem is, after all. :)
> 
> So, I'm participating in the Cap Reverse Big Bang, and the Stucky Big Bang 2017. I'm trying to chip away at various of my WIPs at the same time that I'm working on my big bang stories. But you can expect to see some delays in updating my WIPs while I work on fulfilling these commitments. I'm very excited with both my stories, and think you will be too. They'll both be posted in their entirety when the posting for the bangs starts.
> 
> Please stick with me - there is more to come!


	10. If Ever I Would Leave You – Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which ... talking happens.
> 
> And kisses. Many kisses.
> 
> And revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I split the chapter in two parts. Still working on part 2. It's not the only thing that's coming ...

It turned out that Nat had planned ahead. There were a couple of flasks of fresh water, a small basket of food, and a couple of blankets she must have rescued from the carriage. There was kindling for a fire, with a natural chimney at hand, and glow sticks for light. All the comforts of home, really.

“There’s a little stream that cuts through the back of the cave over there,” Steve nodded toward the faint trickling sound.

“How did she have time to organize all this? Hell, how’d she even know this cave was here, let alone safe?” Bucky demanded incredulously, running his hands over the expanse of boulder blocking the entrance.

“You really don’t understand how remarkable your captain is, do you? I imagine she had this whole area mapped and categorized within minutes of our arrival. As for organizing, she had help – Clint and Trip were still here when I came to, because they both wished us luck.”

“So it took three of them to get the blockage in place – how’re we gonna get out? Nat’s strong, but she doesn’t have the strength of three people.”

“It’s on a lever. I think that’s permanent, actually. I did a little scouting while you were out – there are alcoves cut into the rock. I think this may be used for cold storage. There must be a farms or a village, maybe even a vineyard nearby that uses this place. We’re not gonna be stuck in here, Buck. I imagine if we look hard enough, we’ll find an escape hatch, even, or a hidden lever. But while we’re here, we might as well make the best of it,” Steve added, reaching for Bucky’s waist to pull him closer. Right now, kissing Bucky sounded like the best plan ever. 

Bucky batted his hands away impatiently. “These delaying tactics aren’t gonna get you anywhere, Prince Steven. We agreed to talk. So talk.”

“Why do I have to go first?” Steve asked grumpily, lifting his hands away in surrender.

“Because you’re the one who decided to get engaged at 15,” Bucky snapped back.

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?” Steve asked, dragging his fingers through his hair.

“No. Because that’s when everything started.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“It’s when you started keeping secrets. It’s when I figured I didn’t have a chance with you, so it didn’t really matter who I was with.”

“You presented and went off with the first knothead you met,” Steve snapped, then covered his mouth in horror. Noises that sounded oddly like whimpers and garbled apologies spilled out around his fingers as Bucky turned to look at Steve, fury widening his eyes and hardening his stance.

“That’s what you thought? That I couldn’t wait to have someone’s dick up my ass, so I took the first one on offer? Wow, Steve, y’know – it’s a wonder we were ever friends if that’s all you thought of me.”

Steve felt the urge to slap himself, and not just on the mouth. He was feeling that way a lot lately. Every time he voiced one of his many assumptions about Bucky and Bucky’s sexuality, he found himself staring down the reality of his own bigotry. He’d thought himself so forward-thinking in his attitudes toward omegas, and here he’d been branding Bucky a sex fiend in his mind since they were 15.

“You were already officially courting Peggy. The heats are easier, especially the early ones, if there’s a partner to provide relief. I coulda gone it alone, but why would I if I didn’t have to? And I wasn’t gonna ask you to knot me, not when you belonged to someone else.”

“I, oh – how did you know? That I was alpha? I hadn’t presented yet.”

Bucky shrugged. “I could smell you. I could smell you, and you were driving me insane. I had wet dreams every damned night. My poor chamber maid had to change my sheets every damn day back then. You hadn’t presented yet, but I knew. I knew you were going to be an alpha. So when I presented omega, I thought that was a sign, a sign we were meant to be together. And then you announced you were courting Peggy. Your betrothal came soon after.”

“So the alpha you bedded –“

“He was a healer. He helped me through my first heat so I didn’t damage anything trying to take care of it myself. He taught me how to deal with my symptoms, how to make my body work for me. Yeah, I bragged about it, but he was kind and he was gentle, and in retrospect, he was the best person to help me through that first heat. He taught me to be proud of what I was, to not feel embarrassed by my secondary gender. To celebrate it. And to approach sex with joy, and respect, and fellowship. I still visit him every so often. He’s still kind and he’s still gentle, and he still makes me laugh. So maybe it was for the best that you weren’t my first, but damn, I wanted you, Steve. But you were taken, and I had to respect that.”

“Why did we never talk about this?’ Steve groaned, sinking to the floor to sit with his legs crossed under him, looking up at Bucky stricken and frustrated.

“Because we were teenagers. I know I had some mad idea if I told you about my lovers, you’d take me by the hand and tell me that you wanted to be my one and only, and you’d sweep me off my feet. Only you didn’t. Now I think about it, you just kept looking more and more … sour.”

“I hated hearing about your adventures. I was so jealous of every last one of them. But because of Peggy, I couldn’t say a word. But I wanted that. I want that. To be your one and only. To sweep you off your feet. To have a do over,” he added hopefully.

“I’d say Queen Margaret owes you more than just her beloved. She owes us both.”

“I think she suspected. She’d ask me every so often if I was sure about it. The betrothal. Knowing it wasn’t going to go anywhere, and knowing while we were betrothed, there was no one for me. She had Angie, although they had to be careful. But I … well, I guess if I’d confided in you, I guess maybe, we … ?”

“Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes, if I’d known the truth, we would have.”

Steve slumped against the wall, feeling the full weight of the years between them settle around him, crushing him. “For the want of a single conversation …”

“I’d’ve had no other lover. We would’ve been betrothed – secretly, so exciting! And after an appropriate interval after you and Peggy parted, we’d’ve announced our betrothal publicly. And we’d’ve been married long ago.”

“I had a silly dream that you would wait for me. That when the betrothal was done, and Peggy could be with Angie, you’d be there waiting for me.” 

“You would have me what? Sit in a box on a shelf? Nat accused me of seeing you that way. Like you didn’t have a life when I wasn’t looking.”

“Well, you certainly have had a life!”

“I am not a slut, and I will not allow you to think of me so. I give as much as I receive. And Steve? I remember them. All of them. They are each a part of my life, of who I am. Friends as much as lovers. I enjoy sex. I enjoy people. I won’t apologize for that.”

“I didn’t mean … I’m sorry. And of course, your alliances have already proved to be strategically useful. But you’re the most valuable player on the board, Buck. You’ve got to be protected.”

“I’m not an asset to move on your war board, Steve. I’m a person, a person with skills. A person capable of defending himself, and so much more. It’s not your job to keep me safe. It’s my job to help you defend the realm.”

“Buck, I –“

“Equals, or no deal,” Bucky pressed. “I am not now, nor have I ever been, a fucking damsel in distress. Hell, none of the damsels I’ve known over the years qualify for that stupid perception. It sure as gods-damn doesn’t apply to me.”

“Yeah, but –“

“If your fucking alpha hindbrain is telling you, ‘protect omega, protect omega’,” Bucky sing-songed sarcastically, “tell it to shut the fuck up.”

“Okay, sorry. Geeze, you’re pissy when I get protective,” Steve groused.

“So don’t.”

“Don’t?”

“Get protective. We protect each other. We defend each other. We fight side by side, back to back. Or not at all.”

“Not at all,” Steve echoed.

“Not at all. We’re back to the show betrothal that we’ll cancel later on. I’d rather not marry if my spouse is going to treat me like I’m less than they are because of my secondary gender, or for any reason come to that. I won’t allow it.”

“No, I suppose you won’t. You wouldn’t be you if you did.”

“No one should allow it. The whole idea that any gender is better than another … that’s how we got in this mess, Steve. Rumlow had an omega uncle who could have – who _should_ have – taken the regency. Who should have been Rumlow’s parents’ advisor. But because he wasn’t an alpha, Pierce was able to shove his way in. And look at the road that’s taken us down. Rumlow’s parents might still be alive if they’d had someone sane advising them.”

“I don’t disagree, Buck. It’s just … I never thought of myself as having a mate before. I mean, if I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want anyone else.”

“You wouldn’t have married? Mated? What about the succession? There’s no one else in your line to take over House Rogers.”

“Pegs and I talked about it. I would have adopted one of her and Angie’s children. Paved the way for a joint house – Rogers-Carter.”

“You really would have lived your life without anyone, without even a concubine?”

“I have never wanted anyone but you,” Steve enunciated slowly and carefully. “I don’t find anyone else attractive. I can’t see myself in a sexual situation with anyone else.”

“But you can with me?”

“I try. I … I don’t know much about, well, sex – except for what you’ve told me.”

“Do you want to have sex with me, Steve?”

“Well, I have to if we’re going to mate, right? I mean, that’s the way it works –“

“So, you’d have sex with me, just once. To mate. To lock me in and what? Trap me?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that, but –“

“I love you, Steve, but if we’re talking once and done, I don’t know that I can do that.”

“Are you telling me that if there is no sex, even though you love me, you wouldn’t want to marry? To mate?”

“If we mate, you can never read again.”

“Well, that’s just silly!”

“Is it? You love to read. Ever since your vision improved, you’ve loved to read. The cost of mating with me is you can never read again.”

“Would you really require that?”

“Would you really deny me the pleasures of sex?”

“I … oh. Oh, I see. What if I don’t like it?”

“If you genuinely don’t like it, then we’d have to discuss alternatives. I can love you to the fullest measure, Steve, and still enjoy a fuck with a friend, and it would mean no more than a friendly game of cards.”

“You can do that? Separate sex and your emotions that cleanly?”

“I’ve been doing it for years, Steve. It’s second nature to me now. I’ve only been in love once. I’d always come home to you.”

Steve pointed to himself hopefully, and Bucky nodded solemnly. A smile started to form around the hope blossoming in Steve’s chest, held down by dread that he could never satisfy the far more worldly man that he’d secretly loved for so long. And if he couldn’t keep Bucky happy in bed, he’d lose the one person he’d ever wanted. “I don’t know if I can do that. Not get jealous. Not feel like I’ve failed in some way.”

“There’s no failure if it’s something we agree on.“

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s something we’ll have to work on.”

“Maybe I’ll like sex. Maybe this’ll all be moot.”

“That’s what I’m hoping. Because I’ve been dreaming of making love to you for as long as I can remember.”

Steve looked up sharply at that. “Making love, not sex.”

Bucky smiled gently. “Sex with feelings. I’ve never had that.”

“Never?” Steve’s heart race increased, and for a moment he forgot that his dodgy heart had been fixed years ago, that this racing in his blood was excitement, hope, desire, all bubbling along and threatening to spillover.

“Friendship. Camaraderie. Shared pleasure. Joy. Yes to all those. But never with real feeling. Never with love.”

“So …”

“Handfasting, yes.”

“Marriage?”

“Jury is still out. If we do, Dugan could officiate.”

“Okay. Mating?”

“Let’s see how it goes. Let’s see how compatible we really are. Let’s see how we both feel about it.”

“Soul bond.”

“That’s something we haven’t earned yet. If we bond, I want it to be for the right reasons – not a threat, not a chess move. Because we can’t imagine our lives any other way. When you can tell me that’s why you want it, when I can tell you I feel the same way … then yes. Yes, I’ll bind my soul to yours. But we’re not there yet, Steve.”

“But I still worry.”

“Then ride with me. Ride with me to the place where the Park meets Rogers and Carter both. Let us make our farewells there. You can watch me set foot in Rogers, and I will watch you cross to Carter. Until then, we’ll look out for each other. Protect and defend each other.”

“And all the days beyond.”

“A partnership.”

“The way it should be.”

“Okay. Well, first we have to convince Nat to let us go.”

“Just that. Easy peasy.”

“Then we need to get to Dugan’s.”

“To get married?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Maybe. You still got some wooing to do, asshole.”

&&&

Clint and Trip arrived at Crossroads a few hours after they left the princes and Nat behind, and while Trip looked after Pietro, Clint slipped in to confer with Dernier. The patriarch of Crossroads welcomed their carriage into the family’s private courtyard, and from there, Pietro was transferred to Dernier’s own quarters, and his son, a gifted healer, called up to take a look at Pietro and his injuries. As he cared for Pietro, the compulsion to continue on to Odinson quieted for a while, long enough for Clint and Trip to sit down for a meal with Dernier, wash up, and get some rest. 

By morning, Pietro had regained consciousness, enough to repeat his tale of torture and threat, in fits and starts, with Trip providing additional commentary. Dernier’s grandson transcribed it all, and his daughter, who had the Truth talent, acted as official witness to the two men signing their statements. Dernier then took possession of the statement to hold in trust.

When Pietro was situated in the carriage, and Trip and Clint prepared to depart for Odinson, Dernier promised them, “The clans are gathering. Here, at the northern border. A tournament to determine the best among us. A show of Park strength,” he added, with emphasis. 

“Sounds like a fine affair, Ser Dernier. I reckon similar challenges would not go amiss, eh? And maybe a grand tournament to show the unity of the Park and Houses against a threat to all, hmm?”

Dernier twitched a smile at Clint and nodded. “We’re of a mind, then, Ser Barton.”

“That we are, sir. That we are. You take care of that document – it may be needed before long.”

“Sooner than any of us want, I suspect. Gods’ speed to you all. Please convey my greetings of friendship to the Brothers Odinson. Now, best be on your way, gentlemen!”

&&&

Back in the cave, Steve and Bucky had agreed that sufficient talking had occurred, and it was time to move to the kissing portion of the entertainment. They made a comfortable nest of the blankets, helped themselves to some of the food in the basket, found a bottle of wine among the treats, and shared a drink or two. 

Steve decided he liked the taste of wine on Bucky’s lips.

Strawberries, too.

Cheese wasn’t bad, either.

Pretty much anything tasted better when tasted from Bucky’s lips, although he doubted that awful medicine Ser Erskine gave him when he was small would taste good off anything. And why spoil the taste of Bucky’s lips?

Steve was also finding that he liked the feel of Bucky’s hands on his body, caressing, holding, stroking, just … touching. And heat and the strength and the sheer Buckyness of his body pressed against Steve? Well, no matter what happened next, he knew that he would miss having Bucky so close as soon as they parted. The idea of being separated from Bucky, even for a moment, brought him physical pain. And yet, they each had their missions ahead of them.

But tonight … tonight they had this, while Natasha kept watch outside.

Steve lay in the circle of Bucky’s arm, while Bucky was propped up and looking down at Steve with a tenderness and affection Steve had never seen before. Except … perhaps he’d seen an echo, a shade of it, on occasions when he turned and caught Bucky unawares, looking at him. It slowly dawned on Steve that the way Bucky had looked at him all these years was the way a man looked at the person he loved, just toned down, controlled, hidden. 

How much they’d missed because they hadn’t been honest with each other. Because Steve hadn’t been honest with Bucky.

Bucky was smiling at him, a fond, gentle smile that seemed to keep spreading into his cheeks and eyes, radiating warmth that Steve tipped his face up to bask in. Steve smiled back and lifted his hand to smoothe Bucky’s hair back off his face, running a finger down his temple, along the curve of his cheekbone, and across his upper lip. He paused , finger pressed against Bucky’s lips. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Dunno. It’s got nothin’ to do with how much of a punk you are, Prince Steven.”

“Can this punk kiss you again?”

“So … kissing. On the table?”

“Emphatically so,” Steve agreed, reaching with his other hand to curl around Bucky’s nape, drawing him closer. “Kissing is _good_.”

Bucky grinned into the kiss, allowing himself to be tugged close enough to press his open mouth against Steve’s, letting his tongue dip lightly into his mouth, across his lip, against Steve’s tongue. Steve groaned at the sensation, the delight of Bucky’s mouth and tongue moving against his, the flutter in his abdomen, the pooling of pleasure in his groin. 

“Mmm, noises are good, too,” Bucky murmured, kissing him more deeply. “What about touch?” he whispered against Steve’s lips.

“Touch me and see,” Steve suggested softly, wrapping both arms around Bucky’s shoulders and pulling him tight against his rapidly overheating body. 

“Whoa, there! Gotta breathe, baby. Don’t hold me so tight. If you want touch, I gotta be able to move,” Bucky reminded him with a hot breath over his ear, followed by a nip and tiny suck. Steve’s brain whited out at the sensation, sparks exploding behind his eyelids as he felt his system flooded with light and energy. “How’s that?”

“Guh. Do that again,” Steve tried to say, but the words came out wrong since his brain wasn’t fully functioning. Or at all.

“Stevie, are you okay?”

Steve pressed his forehead against Bucky’s shoulder and panted, nodding. Bucky arched away and slid his fingers into Steve’s hair, tilting his face so he could look down worried. “Use your words, baby. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. More’n okay. That felt amazin’!”

“What, a little nip on the earlobe? Wow, if that gets your motor running, I can’t wait to see what happens when I get to fondle your knot.”

“You, uh, you _what_?”

“Fondle your knot. Play with your ring? I dunno, whadyou like to call it?”

“I don’t call it anything. I never touch it. Except for, you know, hygiene.”

At that, Bucky sat up straight. “You don’t touch your knot. Not even when you,” he curled his hand and stroked up and down in the air. “You _do_ touch your dick, don’t you Steve? Or is that something that doesn’t appeal to you …” Bucky asked uncertainly now, a worried frown creasing his features. “Steve?”

“No, I, y’know, touch that. I know how to, um, make myself, well …”

“Happy?”

“Shoot. You know, um stuff.”

“Cum.”

“Yeah. Cum.”

“But you’ve never touched your knot.”

“No. Should I? I mean, it’s for mating right, what am _I_ gonna do with it?”

“All of this can be used for mating, yeah. And all of it can be used for pleasure. All of it. Okay, that’s it. C’mon,” Bucky ordered, clambered off of Steve, straightened his clothes, and stuck out his hand to Steve, who looked up at him both confused and mournful. 

“We’re not gonna keep going?”

“I’m not allowing your first time to be in a cave, even with a nice nest of blankets and a cheery fire. I need to get you into a bedroom with a door that locks, a couple bottles of excellent wine and several serving dishes of delicious food that won’t spoil over the course of a day or two. Mated or not, it’s about time to advance your sexual education, and we are not parting until I’ve seen you have the time of your life in a real bed, my friend.”

“Friend?”

“You’ll always be my friend, Steve. And truthfully, you’re not my lover, yet, Steve. But if all goes well, you will be.” Bucky grabbed him by the front of his tunic and hauled him in, kissing him like he needed the breath from his lungs in order to live. Steve immediately felt light-headed and aroused, and grabbed at Bucky’s shirt and belt to haul him closer, moaning into the kiss as they ground up against each other.

“Bed. As soon as humanly possible. How do we get out of here?”

Steve pointed to the musical horn that was stacked by the food basket. “Blow on that to alert Nat.”

“Good,” Bucky announced, and grabbed the horn and gave it a good blow. Steve watched forlornly, envying the horn.

&&&

“Excuse me?”

Bucky huffed, but repeated, “We need to get to Dugan’s as quickly as possible.”

“Okay. And what about your assignment?”

Steve nodded and said, “That’s why we need to get to Dugan’s as quickly as possible. He’s going to officiate.”

“Officiate …?”

“Our marriage,” Bucky replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh. And you’re not waiting to do this at court because …”

“If all goes well, we’ll be mating, too,” Bucky answered.

“But not soul bonding. Buck won’t consider that right now,” Steve inserted, frowning.

Natasha quirked a small smile and nodded. “Good. Neither of you are ready. So, mating. You’re doing this because?”

“Because I love Bucky. And he loves me. And it’s time.”

“I’ll go with you,” she announced, turning toward her horse.

“No. Seriously, Nat, we need you to go to Cage, and then back to Odinson. We need you to coordinate the Houses until we can get back to Odinson. The Council of Houses must be called,” Steve pressed urgently.

“What about Lang, Fallsworth? You don’t have enough emissaries for them all.”

“Dugan can put out the call to Fallsworth, Peg to Lang. Besides, Odinson already has invitations on the way.”

“Then why do I have to go to Cage, and not with you? You’ll need someone to watch your back while you’re fucking. And if you mate, you’ll need a witness. I can be that witness.”

“So can Dugan. As the head of one of the Park’s city-states, his witness carries great weight,” Bucky pointed out, his impatience becoming visible.

Steve explained his reasoning as Natasha listened closely. “And we need you at Cage because they share a border with Rogers and Barnes, not to mention the Park and Odinson. They could be in the direct path of Rumlow, if he chooses to head south, then turn east for Barnes. They’re in imminent danger, Nat. Odinson won’t know that until Clint gets there with Pietro and Trip, and then they’ll need to ride for Cage. If you go directly –“

She nodded thoughtfully, then let her posture relax into acceptance. “I can ensure that they’re forewarned and prepared for Rumlow if he veers south. Got it. You don’t think he’ll make through Odinson?”

“I think we need to stop him before he gets that far. But I’m not betting anyone’s life on it, least of all a friendly House.”

“Okay. But the pair of you –“

“We’ll make for Dugan’s,” Bucky finished for her. “We’ll have each other’s backs. We’re each a formidable opponent. Together … well, I pity the assailant who fails to see the folly of his ways, don’t you?”

“I do now,” she admitted with a grin. 

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you checked out my Cap RBB stories yet? If not, go, read, let me know what you think. It was my first experience doing a reverse bang, and oh, what an incredible experience it was. I've already signed up for next year. I did drop out of the Stucky Big Bang, though. Which is how I've been able to work on this instead! 
> 
> Check out
> 
>   * [The New Cold War](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10918617) \- inspired by the art of Orithe 
>   * [Sepia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11365284) \- inspired by the art of Cryo_Bucky 
> 

> 
> And hey, August 1, 2017, I'm starting a Patreon. I'll include discussions of my fic, development of my art, design of my Pops, sculptures, and more. Patron rewards will range from access to images of finished works, to input to designs, to earning custom Pops.
> 
> Pass it on. I'm ridiculously excited about the possibilities! I'll post the link here when it goes live.
> 
> And don't forget to leave me some comment love!


	11. The Lusty Month of May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the lovebirds make their way to Journey's End to seal the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story won first place of my WIPs to be updated in November. I'm grateful - I really kind of love this story, and it's wonderful to return to it and move it forward.
> 
> I've done some restructuring of my notes on this story (I've found some more song titles, too!), and I've split this into two chapters. I'm currently working on the next chapter - there will be smut - and hope to have that ready to go in the next few days. In the meantime, I'm really pleased with how this chapter came out, and I hope you find it as sweet and sexy as I do!

Whence this fragrance wafting through the air?  
What sweet feelings does its scent transmute?  
Whence this perfume floating ev'rywhere?  
Don't you know it's that dear forbidden fruit!  
Tra la la la la! That dear forbidden fruit!  
Tra la la la la!

Lusty Month of May, copyright 1959 by Alan Jay Lerner (book and lyrics) and Frederick Loewe (music).

The ground fell away quickly as they urged their horses on, livery jangling as the steeds ate up territory, dancing over hillocks and stones, meandering creeks, and open grasslands.  Valkyrie and Zephyr nipped and tossed their heads at each other, seeming to each dare the other to run faster, faster, faster as their riders longed to stop and touch and taste.

Bucky loved the feel of a great mount between his legs, but the erection that refused to flag had him longing for something very different between his legs, mounting him.  He felt like an untested teenager with his first heat, ready to shoot off at the slightest whiff of an alpha, swimming in his own slick.

He’d always wanted Steve.  That was never an issue.

He just had never really thought about how actually being able to have him would affect his body.

His body very much approved, and expected satisfaction right the fuck now.

But more than that, he felt different, suffused with energy and light.  They had done little more than kiss and touch, and yet he already felt fundamentally changed.  Perhaps they really were destined for a soul bond.

_If._

And the way that Steve was surreptitiously – and not so surreptitiously – tossing flirty and hungry glances Bucky’s way?  That was making the if more of a certainty.

Steve liked it when Bucky kissed him.  He liked it when Bucky touched him.  Bucky fucking loved kissing and touching him.  And he couldn’t wait until they could do more.  Bucky had a feeling that Steve was gonna like that, too.  He hoped.  He wanted to have a real marriage to Steve.  Hell, he’d even mentioned babies to Nat, and that was something he’d always been very clear about not wanting.

But a little tow-headed waif with Steve’s big blue eyes, a dusting of freckles, and a gap-toothed grin, reaching up to be cuddled and held?  Bucky felt a part of his certainty dissolving at the thought.

There was no doubt they would make beautiful babies.  The most beautiful in the history of the Houses, perhaps. 

But pushing one out of an orifice he preferred to have filled, preferably with Steve’s dick and knot?

Bucky shivered at the thought.

Hormones.  It was just hormones.

And what hormones!  His skin itched like it was two sizes too small for his libido, and his dick ached with the erection that just would not go down.  He thought he could smell his own slick now, and that had never happened before.  He always smelled neutral to himself.  If his pheromones were broadcasting too thickly, while he was still unbonded, that could cause some unwelcome complications in the form of challengers.

_They weren’t moving fast enough._

He knew how to hasten the trip.  With a grin, he nudged Zephyr to surge ahead, shifting from a canter to a gallop as they sailed past Valkyrie and Steve.  He laughed into the wind as he saw Steve’s eyes widen and his face flush as they passed him.

Add a little spice to the mix, make the alpha chase his omega, earn his spot in his omega’s bed.  The chase, the wait, the desire, all combined to make that first coupling all the sweeter.

&&&

Steve had never felt this way.  Never, not even at the height of his secret fantasies he used when pleasuring himself.  Nothing touched him now but his clothes and the saddle beneath him, and Valkyrie’s straining muscles.  And yet he felt like he was trapped in a vice that squeezed and teased his genitals, stroked his shaft and stoked his burning desire.  And yes, he’d read far too many silly romances, and he really did need to have his brain washed out with carbolic. 

It was just that … _Bucky_.

That’s all, really.  Everything was Bucky.

All his fantasies, all the books he’d read, the romantic songs he’d listened to, the plays and the jests, not one of them had prepared him for the surge of energy, the tingle of electricity along every fiber of his being, the sheer magnitude of arousal that sang through every nerve.  Just because Bucky touched him.  Looked him in the eye with desire in those gray-blue depths.  Brushed his lips against his, and made his body a pillar of burning want.

He’d said he didn’t know if he would like sex.  He didn’t need it, just breathing Bucky’s air was enough to sustain him for eternity.

His touch was enough to inspire epic poems and sappy love songs.

His kiss was enough to melt his bones into unformed liquid.

And there could be _more_?

Steve wasn’t sure his brain could survive more.

But, oh, gods, how he wanted more!  He wanted to touch and be touched, to kiss until his lips bled with adoration of Bucky’s perfect lips.  He wanted to curl into Bucky’s embrace, be held and hold in equal measure, and never let go.

Steve wanted.

And that scent!  He was always aware of Bucky’s scent, but now, it curled around him, slid into the spaces in between, tightened its hold on him until Steve was barely aware of anything but the fact that Bucky was near.  The omega that was made for him, the alpha that wanted to give him everything.

And then Bucky and Zephyr surged ahead, and Steve could swear he heard Bucky laughing, a crystalline sound that rang through the air and through every part of him, crying, “Follow me!  Catch me!  Love me!”

And so, Steve did.

&&&

“Lemme get this straight,” Dum-Dum Dugan muttered around an oft-chomped cigar.  “You two want me to watch you fuck.”

“No, of course we don’t –“

“Steve.  _Stevie_.  That’s how it works among the Houses.  It’s stupid and it’s invasive, but if you want a formal mating bond, we need a witness to the actual bond.  The more traditional Houses have an official bondwatcher.”

Dugan snorted.  “Little fucker sits in a special cabinet, with a peephole so they can watch the nasty.”  He shuddered loudly.  “Not even enough room to pull your own pecker out and stroke along with the show.  We do it better.”

Steve looked even more stricken at the description, and Bucky had to reach over and grab his hand, running his thumb soothingly over the back of Steve’s.

“Technically, I don’t need to see you actually fuck, I just need to see you,” he gestured to Steve, “balls-deep up his,” he pointed to Bucky, “ass, while you bite down on his scent gland until you draw blood.”

“Um …”

“You want an official mating bond, y’gotta show,” Dugan shrugged.  “But why here?  Why me?”

“Rumlow,” Steve blurted, eyes wide, and clapped his hand over his mouth.

Bucky glanced over at Steve with equal parts fondness and exasperation, and launched into the explanation of why they’d started down this path of betrothal, and why they’d elected to come to Journey’s End, Dugan’s domain, to seal the deal.

“And now you wanna do it for real.  Marry.  Mate.  Anything else?”

“Stevie here thinks we should soul bond.”

Dugan simply stared at them for a long silent moment, drawing back slightly as he stared at them.  Then a slow, incandescent smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes and crinkling the skin around them.  “About fucking time,” he breathed, pulling the cigar out of his mouth with a flourish.  “Why didn’t you say so?  I’d be honored to witness your soul bond –“

“There’s not gonna be a soul bond,” Bucky was quick to correct.  Steve sagged beside him, and Dugan’s eyebrow shot up curiously.  “We’re … we’re holding that in reserve.  There also might not be a mating,” Bucky sputtered out, and Dugan shoved his cigar back in his mouth, frowning at the pair of them.

“Okay, now you’ve got my attention.  Why the fuck not?”

“Steve –“

“I’m a virgin,” Steve blurted.  “And I don’t know if I’m gonna like sex.  But Buck, with what we’ve done so far, I’m pretty sure –“

“I get it.  You two mate, you’re off the market,” he brandished the foul-smelling, slimy-looking cigar at Bucky, “but you,” he gestured at Steve, “could be off the menu.  Have I got that right?”

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances, then looked at Dugan, nodding earnestly.

Dugan burst into riotous laughter.  He tossed the cigar into an ashtray with frightening accuracy, then grabbed hold of his sides, and roared.  Bucky and Steve just stood there staring at him until he ran out of steam.  “Gods, the pair of you!  The Park and every House along its borders have been waiting for the two of your to get your pretty heads out of your pert little arses long enough to get together, and now this?  Answer’s simple, gents.  Just go ahead and fuck first.”

“Wha –“

“No, we can’t –“

“We don’t have time –“

“Now, that’s where you’re wrong boys.  I get the threat from Rumlow.  Schmidt, too.  Those of us in the Park have had more first-hand knowledge of just how sour those two bloodlines have gone.  I’ll send word to the surrounding Houses and enclaves.  But here in the Park –“

“Dernier is holding a tournament.  Near the border with Rumlow,” Steve blurted.

“A tournament, eh?  Nice one.  So, sounds to me like we need to have a tournament here in the west, too, eh?  And then maybe a grand championship, hmm?” 

“Near Odinson,” Bucky agreed.  “If Rumlow makes for Barnes, he’s almost certainly going to have to go through Odinson.”

“And Thor and Loki are inviting all the Houses to a conclave there.  For our engagement.”

“Well, good,” Dugan clapped his hands together.  “So, I’ll organize the couriers to the Houses.  But you’re in a hurry because …?”

“Rogers and Carter.  Buck’s going to organize with my Ma, and I’m going to organize with Peggs.”

“Two Houses among many.  You can tarry an extra day, take the time to figure this out.  Marriage isn’t something you enter into lightly, and yes, I’ve known how you feel about each other longer than the two of your assholes have figured it out.  I believe you can be married.  But mated?  With that question hanging between you two? You need to answer it first.  You need to take the time.  I’m more than happy to witness if you decide to go forward with the mating bond.  But don’t undertake it unless you both can live up to it.  And Steve, if you really find you don’t like the physical part of it, you can’t expect Buck here to be a monk.  You know what you’re getting with Buck here.  You either take him as he is, or don’t take him at all.”

“That’s pretty much what he said,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

“Lemme guess, you had some romantic notion that Bucky here was gonna give up sex for you if you didn’t like it? Is that really fair?”

“We’ve talked about it, I know how he feels.  Now I need to figure out how I feel.  About sex.  About Bucky having it with other people if I don’t like it … I know that royal pairings often have … other people … but that’s not what I want.  I want a real marriage.”

“That’s what I want, too, Steve.  So, I think … I think maybe Dugan’s right.  With Dugan’s help, and Nat, Clint, and the Odinsons, we’ve mobilized everyone we can, to the west, north, and south.  If Rumlow or Schmidt were coming west, we’d still outrun them on the way to Carter and Rogers.  I think we have to take this chance, Steve.  Mating is forever – I want to be mated to you, but I don’t want a shadow marriage.”

“Yeah, okay.  Gods, I can’t believe we’re standing here talking about having sex like it’s the price of poultry.  So, what next?”

“I’ll have my kid set up the Mating Suite.  Then you take a nice, long, hot bath, wash the grime from the road off, I’ll have some dinner and some excellent wine sent up, and then you let nature take its course.  I’ve never had the opportunity to partake myself,” he added, nodding toward Bucky, “but from all I’ve heard, you couldn’t ask for a better lover for your first time, Prince Steven.  Even better that he loves you, and you love him.

“Now, as to the officiation, doesn’t matter if the wedding happens before or after the mating.  If you decide you want to mate tonight, there’ll be a bell you can ring.  My son-in-law will be in the next room, no doubt reading trashy omega romances.  Why my daughter couldn’t find herself a normal beta instead of an omega wannbe is beyond me.  But when he hears the bell, he’ll knock on the door.  If you need me to witness, he’ll get me.  You’ll do your thing, I’ll ask Buckeroo here if he consents to be mated, he says yes, I ask you, you say yes, then I watch until the first drop of blood falls, and there you go – officially mated.  If that’s what you both agree.  Consent is really important here, fellas.”

“We understand.  You said something about a bath?  Is it one of Stark’s newfangled ones?”

“Only the best at Journey’s End. Why, don’t tell me you don’t have one of ‘em at home.”

“Not yet.  He hasn’t gotten as far as our Houses.  Seems to be focusing on the Park and the Houses on the border.”

Dugan rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully for a moment, then his lips twitched as though he’d come to a decision.  “Yeah, there’s a reason for that.”

“Oh?”

“The Starks have been helping us prepare.”

“Prepare?”

“For exactly why you’re here.  But the Pact limits what we can legally do.  So …”

“So the Starks have been outfitting you for what?  War?”

Dugan nodded once, silent.

Steve drew a slow breath in through his nose.  “It violates the Pact, but we know that Rumlow has done worse already.”  He glanced at Bucky, who nodded slowly.  “We’ll stand by you.  The border Houses?”

“They don’t know about arming the Park.”

“We’ll be the ones to tell them, then.  We need to be unified against this enemy.  We can’t let the Park be defenseless.  And it’s about time we revisited the status of the Park after this is all over.”

“You know we would follow you if you chose to reunify the kingdom, Prince Steven.”

“I have no desire to be king, Dugan.  I want only what’s best for the people.”

“Sounds like the right attitude for a king, to me.”

“Well, this not-a-king wants to soak in bubbly hot water for a while.  You have any of that,” he gestured to indicate something fluffy with his hands.

“I’ll have a selection brought up.  Well, gentleman, welcome to Journey’s End.  And thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for… everything,” Steve shrugged.

&&&

“I don’t ever wanna get out of this tub!” Steve groaned, sinking deeper into the tub so the bubbles wafted over the surface and tickled his nose.  He could feel tension unfurl from his body and drift off into the scented water.

“You’ll get all pruney.  Don’t know if I wanna fuck pruney Steve,” Bucky said from where he sat by the tub, trailing his fingers through the bubbles.

“Being married means getting pruney together.  Old age, dotage, the whole getting decrepit together.”

“Don’t mean I gotta fuck you if you’re too pruney.”

Steve stared at Bucky for a long moment, taking in the dancing gray-blue eyes, the lines crinkling with mirth around those eyes, the smirk curling those recently licked lips.  He felt a swooping sensation in his gut at the same time he felt a tightening in his balls, a flutter in his chest, and a dizziness in the head.  This man … he made Steve feel everything all at once.  But mostly he felt like he was teetering on the edge of the abyss, that what he did next could cost him more than he was willing to pay. “I’m scared, Buck.  I’m scared this won’t work, and we’ll … you’ll … _fuck_.”

Bucky rested his cheek on the forearm he’d draped along the edge of the tub, his eyes searching Steve’s for something Steve didn’t know.  There was a hint of sadness there, a tightness around Bucky’s eyes that Steve was sure he’d put there.  Then Bucky lifted his hand from the water, and reached up to caress Steve’s cheek, leaving a trail of water dripping down Steve’s skin.

“I love you,” he said simply.  And Steve felt heat along the touch of Bucky’s fingers, energy passing from Bucky to Steve and back.  It was a new sensation, something he’d never felt before.  And the widening eyes that looked at him in surprise told him Bucky felt it, too.  And that it was as new for him as it was for Steve.

“I love you, too,” Steve replied, lifting his hand to cover Bucky’s.  And yes, it was getting pruney.  But it felt so right blanketing Bucky’s, fingers sliding in between his as he pressed their joined hands against his cheek.

“We’ll make this work,” Bucky promised, his eyes locked on Steve’s as he lifted himself up to press a single kiss against Steve’s damp hairline.  Steve felt the bolt travel from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, gasping at the sensation.  Bucky pulled back then, a tiny frown creasing his brow as he looked at Steve with something like wonder.  Then a slow smile started to light up his face, and Steve felt the fear, the tension, the worry simply … evaporate.

It seemed so simple when Bucky said that.  And somehow, Steve realized that maybe it was just that simple.  If they loved each other, they could work it out.  Talk it out, be open, be honest. 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Bucky repeated with a smile.  “Wash your back?”

&&&

Bucky had insisted on drying Steve off himself, briskly running the fluffy towel over Steve, nudging into crooks and crannies to blot away the moisture.  The touch was kind but efficient; there was nothing sexual in the contact, just gentle and reassuring.  He made Steve continue to stand there in the warmth and steam of the bathing room while he rubbed silken lotion into the flesh of his back, chest, arms, and legs, his fingers digging into tiny knots of tension still present under Steve’s skin.  His hands moved quickly and deftly, but didn’t pause to caress or arouse.  Even so, the attention made Steve feel good, feel safe and loved.

Steve was swaying on his feet, practically asleep from the heat, the relaxation, the wonder of Bucky’s hands on him.  Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the past few days, more than a decade of pining, and the pace they’d set to get this place.  In many ways, Dugan’s town seemed to have been named just for Steve – this was the end of a journey he’d been on for many years.  After tonight, there would be a new journey on which he’d embark, and the prospect both excited and terrified him, but in the moment, he was too loose, too comfortable, too close to sleep to worry about it.

Finally, Bucky guided Steve to the big bed in the middle of the bedroom, and eased him down onto the mattress, wrapping him in the plush warmth of the blanket.

As Bucky tucked him in gently, Steve tried to lift his arm to circle his neck, but they flopped around boneless, ineffectual.  “I wanna …” he murmured.

“I wanna, too, baby.  Right now, just rest, just be.  It’s my turn to get ready.  I’ll wake you when I’m done, when the food’s here.”

“Love you,” Steve whispered as sleep lapped at his consciousness and finally pulled him under.  He smiled as he heard the echo of, “I love you, too,” follow him down.

&&&

Bucky returned to the bathing room, and gently closed the door behind him.  He stood there for a long moment, surveying his options, even as his blood sang with desire to return to the bedroom and climb Steve right the hell now.

He’d felt the increase of his slick and the spike in his arousal on the road.  He’d felt it ratchet up when they’d been standing side by side in Dugan’s office, and it had taken everything he had not to rip Steve’s clothes off him and start grinding his ass against Steve’s cock.  He was honestly shocked no one commented on the intensity of his scent. 

But the bath.  Oh my gods, the bath.  Miles of unblemished, golden skin.  That gorgeous cock on display, embraced by the warm water and buoyed, half erect, between those powerful legs.  He didn’t think that Steve was even aware of his partial hard-on, so lost in the simple pleasure of the bath was he.  But Bucky had been acutely aware of that glorious dick, and the slightly puffed ring at the base of it, the perfectly proportioned sac that hung beneath, daring him to dart his tongue out to taste, to lick, to suck.

Tugging gently at his own cock, Bucky shook his head and turned his attention to his own bath.  The Stark miracle had allowed him to simply lift out the plug when Steve had stepped from the bath, letting the water drain away without anyone having to lift a finger.  Better still, to start his own bath, he needed only to open the taps, and hot and cold water mingled to create a bath that was just right.

They were going to have sex.  Tonight.  In the room next door.  All his adolescent fantasies were about to collide with reality, and he was going to have Steve between his legs, coupling for the first time.

A dollop of slick slid out of his ass, slithering down his crack and slipping toward his thigh.

His cock was rock hard in his hand.

And his scent?  He felt the room swimming with it.  Steve had to be able to smell it.  Hell, anyone in the corridor or even in the room next door – gods, Dugan’s son-in-law! – should be able to smell it. 

Did it affect Steve?  Or was he immune?  Were they really suited to each other, able to blend their scents, their souls, to create something new and unique?  Or was that just a dream, and Steve remained unaffected by Bucky’s body’s urges to present?

Bucky felt sick with it all.  What if after all the wanting, even with all the love, they just weren’t meant to be mates?

The thought brought him under control, his erection flagging, his scent dampening.  He was going to have to face his fears, face the future, and stop fucking around.

He glanced at the offerings Dugan had sent up, and decided against them all.  If Steve was going to scent him, if he was going to bite down into his scent glands, he wanted Steve to smell and taste him, Bucky, without any masks or enhancements.  Instead, he chose an unscented oil to soften his skin, and poured it liberally into the water.  Then he took a bar of neutral soap and a loofah, dipped the loofah in the water, and soaped himself up.  When he was completely scrubbed and covered in lather, he stepped into the tub and lowered himself in one smooth motion, letting the water and the oil slough off the lather, and soak into his skin.  Then he settled back against the tub, and let the warmth work its way into his bones, into his muscles, drawing off his tensions, even as the water rinsed off the grime of the road.

After a while, he felt the pads of his fingers beginning to wrinkle, and he decided that it was time.

It was time.

&&&

When Bucky returned to the bedroom, he found that the fire had been lit in the grate, a cart had been left, laden with a multitude of covered dishes, each smelling more appetizing than the last, and a bucket of ice containing two bottles of wine had been placed on the low table between the two comfortable looking chairs facing the fire. 

Bless Dugan.  He’d taken care of setting the scene for seduction.  Apparently all without waking Steve, who still lay swaddled in the soft blanket, head tipped back, and snoring fit to wake the dead.  Well, if they were going to share a bed in future, that was one thing Bucky was going to have to address, for both their well-being.

Bucky stood there for a long moment, enjoying the sound of the fire crackling, the heady scents of delicious food awaiting them, the headier scent of happy alpha that was beginning to roll off Steve.  The small smile on Steve’s face, so smooth and young in repose, made Bucky’s heart ache.  He loved this man so much it threatened to engulf him, crush him from existence.  How had he ever thought it was enough to not have this man here, where he could kiss, he could touch, he could give voice to his love, and see _this_ smile?

He wanted all the smiles.  The happy smiles, the smiles through the tears, the giddy smiles, and the silly smiles.  He wanted the days and the nights to stretch in front of them, full of promise and love.

He loved this man.

And now he finally had the opportunity to prove it.

&&&

“Steve, baby, wake up,” he heard Bucky breathe softly across his ear.

“Mmm?”

“Dinner.  Wake up so you can fuel up.  Gonna need your energy, baby.”

Steve stretched and scrubbed his fists against his eyes, opening them slowly to see the most glorious vision of his life:  Prince James of House Barnes stretched naked on the bed next to him, grinning like a loon, and swirling a glass of ruby red wine in one hand.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Steve vowed, reaching out to touch that smiling face with a reverent hand.

“Speak for yourself, Stevie.  Nothing compares to you.  Now wake up, Dugan sent up a feast.  You’re gonna need every bit of energy for what I have planned!”

Sleepily. Steve pulled himself up to rest against the headboard, while Bucky handed him his wine glass and slid off the bed to push the cart closer to Steve.  He handed Steve a plate, and encouraged him to fill it.

“Kinda distracting there, pal,” he commented at he lifted a couple of the lids and shifted position so his legs hung over the side of the bed.

Bucky nodded toward Steve’s own nakedness, and answered, “ _Et tu_.”

And well.  That was not something that Steve expected to be so arousing.  Given the whole naked Bucky thing.  The naked Bucky smelling better than all this food put together, in fact.  Steve glanced down at his groin and realized that a part of him had noticed long before he did, and his dick was erect in a full salute to Bucky’s nakedness and delicious aroma.

“You’re not … you’re not in _heat_ , are you?”

Bucky sat back down on the edge of the bed with a bounce, attention focused for the moment on the contents of his plate.  “First of all, heat and rut aren’t really real things, you know.  There’s no biological cycle where omegas lose themselves to a mindless need to be bred.  Come on, Steve, you attended the same lectures I did.  As for alphas, some would like you to believe in the alpha rut, because it grants them permission to not be accountable for their own actions.  Personally, I think we need to take over the kingdom like Dugan suggests, and the first thing we do is outlaw the concept of rut, make every alpha who’s ever taken an omega against their will pay for their fucking _crimes_.”

Steve held up one hand in a conciliatory gesture, while the other held the fork that shoveled food into his mouth.  “Okay, okay!  It’s just that you – geeze, Buck, you smell so _good_!”

“Yeah, well, there is that.  Seems like ever since we were making out in the cave, my hormones are up.  I’m producing more slick, and yeah,” he gestured at his lap where his own erection was standing proud, “kinda can’t get rid of this.  What you do to me, baby,” he added with a feral grin.

“Oh, thank gods!  I thought there was something wrong with me – I’ve been half hard since we were in the cave!  And I feel like my skin’s too tight by at least two sizes –“

“How can you tell?  You wear your shirts like that anyway –“

“Okay, four sizes, then, jerk.  Gods, that bath, and you oiling me up with that lotion – thought I was gonna shoot right there in the bathing room.”

“Would’a been hot if you had.  Stevie, never, ever feel like you can’t express yourself sexually with me.  Even if … well, even if the rest of it doesn’t work the way we hope, I’m still your best friend, right?  And you’re mine.  We gotta learn to put aside all these secrets, and act like we’re best friends.  Always be honest with each other.  Promise me,” Bucky insisted, leaning closer to Steve.

Steve took the opportunity to slam his plate down on the bedside table and grab Bucky by the back of the neck, hauling him in for a bruising kiss.  “How soon?” he demanded against Bucky’s lips.

“How soon what?” Bucky muttered right back.

“How soon can we start?”

Bucky wrenched away, put his plate on the cart and kicked it away, then moved to straddle Steve, grinding his erection down against Steve’s.  “Right the fuck now,” he growled, grabbing the back of Steve’s head to reposition it to his liking, as he dove back in to kiss him thoroughly and fiercely.

&&&

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this seemed a good spot to close out this chapter. When we come back to the story, there will be smut. I've been plotting this next chapter for the last couple of months, working out the mechanics and dynamics in my head. Yes, I have been plotting porn.
> 
> And as I've been working on this chapter, I'm once again reminded how much I really love playing in this universe. We stiill have a ways to go, and I hope you'll continue on this journey with me.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	12. I Loved You Once in Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here be smut. Pretty much the whole chapter is smut, with talking and feelings. And maybe some humor. 
> 
> It's late, and I will likely come back and do some edits on this to clean it up, so if you find anything obvious, please let me know, This chapter has been buzzing in my head for months now, and I'm happy to finally decant it. I hope you enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had actually forgotten this song, _I Loved You Once in Silence_ , was in **_Camelot_**. The beginning of the song suits this chapter, but since the song is Guinevere and Lancelot, the latter part of the song is sad, and not at all fitting for our boys. So we'll just pretend this is the whole song.

I loved you once in silence  
And mis'ry was all I knew  
Trying so to keep my love from showing  
All the while not knowing you loved me too

Yes, loved me in lonesome silence  
Your heart filled with dark despair  
Thinking love would flame in you forever  
And I'd never, never know the flame was there

Then one day we cast away our secret longing  
The raging tide we held inside would hold no more  
The silence at last was broken  
We flung wide our prison door  
Ev'ry joyous word of love was spoken

 

They kissed heatedly for several minutes, Bucky rotating his hips and grinding down against Steve, Steve occasionally lifting his hips abortively.  Their cocks slid against each other, leaving a trail of flame that burned low in Bucky’s gut.  His skin buzzed and sizzled in a way that was new and exciting, and everywhere that touched Steve felt infused with energy, light, power.  Finally, Bucky realized that he was pretty much doing all the work, and Steve was mostly laying underneath him, his hands grasping onto his thighs and not really moving.

For a moment, Bucky’s breath stuttered and fell still. Steve really didn’t want this.  He was just going through the motions.  He felt his heart break a little in that moment. 

Slowly, Bucky lifted himself up and away, keeping his eyes closed for just a moment longer so he could have the fantasy for just a few seconds more … and when he opened them, he realized he’d had it all wrong.  The look of bliss on Steve’s face made his breath stutter for another reason – Steve was unutterably beautiful like that, color high, long lashes spread across his rosy cheeks, lips red and kiss-bitten, shiny with spit, parted and ready to kiss again. 

It wasn’t that Steve wasn’t interested – the thick, hard cock curving against his was definitely interested. 

It wasn’t that Steve didn’t want this – the soft curve of his lips into a blissful smile said otherwise.

Steve didn’t know what to do, Bucky realized.  He’d never idled away the hours with soft kisses and teasing touches.  He’d never had other lovers who taught him how to give and take pleasure in equal measure.

Steve had never lain with another, not woman, not man.  Not alpha, beta, nor omega.  He hadn’t traded kisses with a maid or a groom.  There’d been no mentor to teach him how his body worked, and how he could make it work for him.

Bucky was Steve’s first.  His first _everything_.

Bucky’s hips had stilled by this time, and he sat straddling Steve’s hips and stared down at him in wonder, chest heaving.  He reached out a tentative hand, and traced the line of his cheekbone, gently, feather-light.  Steve’s eyes opened slowly, and his tongue slid over his lips to moisten them as he looked up at Bucky then, brows creased with confusion.  He drew his hands away from Bucky’s thighs, and Bucky leaned forward to capture each of them and drew their hands together, lacing their fingers and pressing them against the center of Bucky’s chest.

“Buck?”

“I had no idea,” Bucky breathed, reverent and small.  “I had no idea, Stevie.  I’m sorry you’ve waited so long.”  He lifted their joined hands up to his lips, and pressed a kiss into Steve’s knuckle.  “Thank you for this gift.”

Steve blinked once, twice, three times.  A touch of fear lurked there, in the depths of those impossibly blue eyes, and Bucky felt his face relax into a smile, drawing the fear out of Steve’s expression to replace it with some of the wonder Bucky felt.

“I love you,” Steve whispered, as if that answered everything.  And it did.

Bucky released their hands, leaned down again, and kissed Steve’s forehead, his brow, his nose, and finally his lips.  “Let me show you,” he murmured against Steve’s lips.  “Let your fingers, your hands, explore.  I want you to touch me.  I want you to know me.  Everything I am, I am yours.”

Steve looked up at him, his expression serious as he nodded once.  He lifted his hand then to touch Bucky’s face, trace along the line of his brow, down along the cheekbone and to Bucky’s jaw, to his lips.  Bucky kissed the finger that slid along his mouth, nuzzled into the palm that Steve pressed against the other side of his face.  Then Steve let his hands wander, smoothing down the skin of Bucky’s neck, igniting fireworks in his path, down across his clavicle, flattening across the expanse of his chest, cupping his pectorals and rubbing his palms against his nipples.  Sliding around his sides, and skimming downward to Bucky’s hips. Resting there as Steve stared into Bucky’s eyes, searching, vulnerable, waiting.

“I love you,” Bucky said softly again, lowering his face so he could draw his tongue lightly across Steve’s lips before he dipped further down to capture them in a gentle kiss.  Carefully, he shifted so he was no longer straddling Steve, but was stretched out beside him, leg thrown over Steve’s as they touched, from head to toe, and all the points aflame between them.  Steve rolled slightly so he could wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist, as Bucky slid his hand into Steve’s hair, the other ghosting over the swell of his chest.  Steve’s hands roamed, questing, moving lightly over Bucky’s heated skin, pressing flame into his flesh, marking him, branding him, as Steve’s, Steve’s, Steve’s.  Up his arms, kneading at his muscles, skimming over his shoulders, dancing down the steps of his spine, pausing once more at his hips, hesitant.  Bucky could feel the tension rising in Steve again, and once more he lifted his face to stare into Steve’s eyes.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly when he realized Steve’s eyes were closed, his brows bunched up and betraying his nerves.  “Steve, let me see you.”

Steve opened his eyes again then, and looked up worriedly.

“Do you want this?” Bucky asked gently, stroking the soft skin of Steve’s cheek lightly.

“Do you?”

“More than I can say.  But only if you want it, too.”

“I do.  I do want this.  But … you make me feel so good, you know what to do, you have experience –“

“I do.  And I want to share everything I know with you.  I want to make you feel good.  Making you feel good makes me feel good.  You touching me makes me feel even better.  There is no wrong or right here, Steve.  Kissing you, touching you, being here with you … it doesn’t feel like anything I’ve felt before.  Everything I’ve done, everyone I’ve been with, it isn’t now, they weren’t you.  It’s like … it’s like my first time, too.  The first time I get to kiss and touch the man I’ve always loved.  The first time he touches me.  I’m nervous, too, Steve.  I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You are?  You don’t?”

“Of course, I don’t, punk!  I want this to be good for you.  I want this to be good for us both.  I want us both to remember this night with joy.  Because that’s what you make me feel, Steve.  Joy.”

Steve surged up then, hands holding Bucky’s face in position as he kissed him fiercely, without reservation.

&&&

They kissed for a long time – forever and a day, it seemed – mapping each other, learning each other, tasting and testing each other.  Their bodies moved against each other for the pleasure of it, not seeking release, yet seeking contact, connection.  Hands touched and caressed and worshipped.  They’d break  away from kissing to smile at each other, breathless, and then plunge back in together. 

The gurgling of Steve’s stomach reminded them both that they had eaten only a few bites of the delicious feast that Dugan had provided.  They stopped kissing and looked at each for a beat, then dissolved into giggles.  “Fuel,” Bucky ordered, and Steve nodded, chuckling.

The food was cold, but it was still delicious.  The wine was perfectly chilled, although the ice had melted.  They fed each other tidbits, licking each other’s fingers clean, giggling and nudging each other like the children they’d once been.  They drank deeply of the wine, eyes fluttering closed in honor of its quality.  When they were done, they each took a moment to clean up and take care of necessary ablutions.  Bucky pulled the bedclothes back – they’d been making out on top, and now he wanted to commit to the evening’s activities.

He’d slipped under the covers and was sat there in bed, back against the headboard, when Steve came back into the room.  He’d cleaned up the food, but left a full glass of wine on each bedside table, and had moved the bell Dugan had provided to the table closest to him.

“Buck?” Steve asked curiously, drying his hands with the towel.

Bucky patted the space beside him in the bed.  “Come to bed, husband,” he invited with a twinkle in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

“Husband.  I like the sound of that,” Steve replied as he came round the bed and slid in beside Bucky.

“Me, too.  Now … I’d like to make my husband feel good.  May I?”

“You don’t have to ask –“

“I do.  Consent.  It’s important to me.  I want to know that what we do – what I do to you, with you, what you do to me – is what you want, Steve.  There will never be anything in this marriage that is done without consent.  Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve replied in a small voice.  “What do you want to do?”

“I want to worship you with my mouth.  Kiss you.  Lick you.  Nibble on you.  Suck you,” he added meaningfully, raising an eyebrow as he glanced down at Steve’s crotch.

“Oh,” Steve breathed, and the twitch of said crotch betrayed his interest.  “I, well, I don’t … I don’t know how to return the favor,” he got out all in a rush.

“I’m not asking you to.  It’s what I’d like to do to you – I enjoy it, and I think you might, too.  Is that okay?”

Steve swallowed hard and nodded rapidly, his eyes wide. 

Bucky rolled toward him and cupped his face in his palm, smiling softly as he looked into Steve’s eyes.  “Relax, Stevie.  If I do anything you don’t like, just tap on my arm like this,” he tapped sharply, two beats.  “Or just say ‘stop’.  I’ll always respect your choice.”

Steve reached up and smoothed Bucky’s hair away from his forehead, took a deep breath, and nodded.  “I know you will.  I’m sorry I’m so nervous.  I’m just afraid … I won’t be enough.”

Bucky lifted himself up and looked at Steve, horrified.  “Because of the sex thing?  Forget that, okay?  Just relax and let’s see how it goes, okay?  Be honest with me – that’s the most important thing, okay?  If you don’t like something, if you don’t like _anything_ , tell me.  And if you do like something, let me know.  Be honest.”

Steve nodded, his fears still evident in the way he scrunched his eyes, the cast of his mouth.  But he nodded. 

Bucky leaned down and kissed his nose gently.  “I love you,” he whispered against Steve’s skin.  “I have always loved you, and I always will.”   He let his lips slide along Steve’s skin to kiss one eyelid, then the other, smiling as he felt Steve shudder and sigh.  He trailed his lips down Steve’s cheek, ghosted across his lips, and along his jawline.  He drank in the soft gasp that Steve couldn’t contain as he nosed along the delicate skin behind his ear, or the sharp, “Oh!” when he grazed his teeth along Steve’s earlobe.  He reveled in the scent of aroused alpha that filled his senses when he lapped at Steve’s scent glands, rejoiced in the way Steve’s body tightened, his arms encircling Bucky’s torso, hands smoothing down over his back.  He murmured words of encouragement against Steve’s collar bone, and rained kisses across his chest.  He flicked his tongue out to taste the pebbled mounds of Steve’s nipples, smiling at the breathy whine, the pressure of ten fingers pressing against his back to hold him there, the steady swelling of the cock resting against his hip.  Bucky accepted the invitation, and spent a happy while worshiping Steve’s glorious tits with tongue, lips, and a hint of teeth.

He let his hand skim down Steve’s side, soothing, loving, grounding.  He flattened his palm against the defined ridges of Steve’s abdomen, the skin soft and pliant against the strength and firmness of Steve’s muscles.  He let his knuckle gently caress the trail of hair down his lower tummy, enjoying the way the muscles tensed and jumped under that tender touch, the way Steve’s body started to draw inward in anticipation, the way Steve’s breath drew in and held …

His first touch on the smooth, silken skin of Steve’s knot was explosive.  It was puffed up already, as if the hard, proud line of his cock drooling on his tummy and the heady spike in his scent weren’t already indication of Steve’s arousal.  But as soon as Bucky’s fingers touched that part of Steve that Steve had steadfastly ignored, Steve shot up with a cry, his chest heaving.  Bucky was tossed off where he’d been suckling Steve’s nipple, and landed with a whoosh and a thud on his back.

“Fuck!” Steve swore.  “What was that?” he demanded, panting and grinning.

“That, my love, is your knot.  Only thing I even remotely envy in an alpha.  But then again, I have slick,” he commented with an answering grin.  He got back up in a fluid motion, placed the flat of his hand on Steve’s chest and pressed him back into the bed, and straddled him once more.  “And if you liked that, baby, strap in, because we just got started.”

Bucky slithered down so that he was nose to tip with Steve’s cock, and reached up with both hands to hold Steve’s arms in place.  This wasn’t going to go as planned if Steve kept bucking him off.  Steve had his head raised, straining to see what Bucky was doing.  Bucky tossed him a wink and a smirk, and opened his mouth to touch his tongue to the divot under the head of Steve’s dick.  Steve’s hips jerked upward.  “Try to keep your hips steady, baby.  It’s better if you don’t break my nose.”

“Sorry, Buck.  I just … I just had no idea it would feel like that –“

“Oh, honey, that’s nothing,” Bucky told him with a decidedly devilish air, and flattened his tongue against the head of Steve’s cock and licked.  Normally, he’d like to close his eyes and savor the sensations without distraction, but the expressions morphing across Steve’s face were just too delicious.  Suddenly, Bucky felt doubt fall away, felt that light spreading from his core again.  He felt something inside him settle, like a piece that had been missing all along had finally found its place, its perfect fit.  “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you feel amazing,” he breathed, shifting so his open mouth was centered over the slit. 

He licked out, tasting the pre-cum that dribbled and blurted, groaned at the taste, and smiled.  Then he couldn’t contain the urge any longer, and he sucked the head into his mouth and rolled it against his tongue, drawing the most incredible sounds of panting, swearing, whining, and moaning from Steve.  He let his hands travel down Steve’s powerful arms, and caught his hands in his, threading their fingers as Steve clutched at him, his hands clamping down with all of Steve’s not inconsiderable strength.  A lesser man might have been hurt by the force of Steve’s grip, but he and Bucky had been practicing hand to hand and various other moves for years – Bucky welcomed Steve’s hold with his own strength as he started to bob up and down on Steve’s delectable dick.

“Ah, geeze, fucking fuck!  Oh my gods, Bucky, I can’t believe you’re doing – oh fuck!” Steve swore, launching into a litany of profanity-laced babble that increased in speed and intensity with the motion of Bucky’s tongue.  It got worse when Bucky started laughing as he licked and suckled.  “Gods-fucking-dammit, Prince Motherfucker James –“

Bucky pulled off with a slurp and a pop and warned, “Leave my mother out of it, Prince Steven.  You’re welcome to call me a cocksucker because that I am, and glad of it.  But my mother is off limits –“

“Oh my gods, Bucky, I am so sorry, I di-“ Steve stammered, cut off in mid-word as Bucky licked down the underside of Steve’s cock and sucked an arc of his knot into his mouth.  For the remainder of their days, Bucky would swear that Steve levitated at that moment, floating at least a foot off the bed as curses, weeping, and an undignified (but wholly satisfying) squeak erupted out of him.

Bucky released his hold on the knot until they’d both settled back into the mattress.  “I had no idea I was marrying a bucking stallion, my lord.  If this is how you react to a little suck, I can’t wait until you’re fully seated up my ass, and your knot blows,” Bucky told Steve with a chuckle as he settled back on Steve’s knees, looking down at Steve fondly.

“It’s all too much,” Steve whispered.  “I don’t … I don’t know how to feel it all.”

Bucky nodded, considering.  Perhaps this wasn’t the time for exploratory licking and sucking.  Perhaps it would be better if they were to couple and knot, get the big event out of the way so that Steve had some context for the smaller joys of hand, mouth, and tongue.  He looked down at Steve’s prick, thick, long, and proud as a steady stream of pre-cum oozed from the slit and dribbled down the side.  He reached for it with one hand, while holding down Steve’s hip with the other.  Forming a loose ring with his hand, he stroked gently up and down the shaft, holding Steve’s eyes with his own.  “We’ll take it slow.  How do you like this?”

“Feels good,” Steve agreed, sighing and letting his eyes drift shut for a moment.  His breathing calmed and his body started to relax.  Bucky tried tightening his hand slightly, and Steve’s eyes flew open.

“Too much?”

“Um, no.  It’s different, though.  When you do it.”

“I don’t know your body like you do.  But I will learn.  I will learn everything you like, everything that makes you gasp and keen.  I’ll learn the things you don’t like, and I will never do them.  I commit my life to delivering you pleasure and joy, my love.”

“I should –“ Steve started, trying to sit up.  But Bucky moved his hand from Steve’s hip to the center of his chest. 

“No.  Not this time.  This time is for me to show you.  Give me this, let me guide you.  We have time for more, Steve.  We have many nights, and years, and decades.  But tonight, let your husband show you how to bring you pleasure beyond what you’d known,” he said gently, his hand moving steadily up and down the hard cock in his hand, his eyes locked on Steve’s.  Steve nodded in silence again, and Bucky canted his head, smiling.  Without increasing the pace, he lengthened the stroke, bringing his hand firm down over the thickening ring of Steve’s knot.  A stuttered curse voiced Steve’s approval.  Still holding Steve’s eyes, Bucky let his hand stroke up, down, and around, a half-circle caressing the knot.  Again, the other way.  Again, again, again, a full circle.  Steve was gasping and panting, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes, his eyes eclipsed with black, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he tried to keep up with the sensations.

Bucky kept up his stroking, and leaned down to lick across Steve’s mouth, teasing his teeth to release the lip, and sliding deftly into Steve’s mouth.  They kissed, tongues stroking and sliding against each other, breaths exchanged and sighs swallowed, while Bucky stroked, stroked, stroked.

“Is this okay?” Bucky whispered reverently, and Steve nodded his head.  “Words, Steve.  I need to hear your words.”

“It’s okay.  It’s more than okay.  It’s … gods, I don’t have the words, Bucky!” he replied, his voice rising in pitch, nearly a whine.

Bucky closed his mouth over Steve’s, and kissed him deeply as his hand slipped lower, fondling Steve’s balls, rolling them in his hand as he stroked his thumb over the silky soft flesh.  Then he circled under the knot with his hand, thumb and forefinger not quite meeting as he kneaded and caressing the heated skin of the expanding knot as Steve tensed and panted beneath him, his thighs tightening and his heels digging into the bed for purchase.  Finally, Bucky moved back to the steady, unhurried stroke of Steve’s dick, and Steve seemed to relax, his breathing evening out and his muscles uncoiling.

Bucky turned his attention to mouthing across Steve’s jawline, down his neck, pausing to lick and suck at Steve’s scent glands. Steve’s arms tightened around his shoulders, his hand sliding into Bucky’s hair, tugging and pulling and making Bucky feel like he was doing something very, very right.  “Baby, I think you’re ready,” he turned to whisper in Steve’s ear.  Steve nodded frantically, practically sobbing with pleasure.  “Want you to get up on your knees, back against the headboard.  Okay?  You with me, Steve?”

Steve nodded, pulling Bucky’s head back so he could kiss him again, and then he pulled away slightly, resting their foreheads together.  “You with me Steve?” Buck repeated.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’m with you, Buck.  Gods, I think I understand now.  Why you … why you enjoy, well, this,” his hand flopped up and down to indicate their joining.  “It’s amazing.  You’re amazing.”

“C’mon, up.  If you think this is amazing, then baby … gods, I’m so lucky to get to share this with you.”

They kissed again, and then Bucky was nudging Steve into position.  He knelt on the bed, his back to the headboard, and Bucky positioned himself in front of Steve.  Bucky reached around and guided Steve’s cock toward his entrance, and then he commanded Steve to hold it in place so Bucky could impale himself on just the tip.  Bucky spread his legs as he settled on all fours, fists planted in the bedclothes as he eased himself back onto Steve’s cock, feeling the head push in, still, and then breach into his channel.

Again, energy shot through Bucky’s body, radiating out from where he and Steve were joined.  A wave of pleasure crashed over him at the sensation of the blunt head stretching his rim, sliding into the tight heat of his ass.  There was little resistance, with his slick flowing freely.  He could have taken all of it in one slick slide, but he was concerned it would be too much for Steve to process.  There were other times where Steve could take him in one go, but not this first time.

Steve practically doubled over from the sensation of Bucky’s ass closing over the head of his cock.  “Oh!  Oh gods!  Buck …” he panted, his hands reaching for Bucky’s hips.

“Not yet, Steve.  Hold it steady,” Bucky commanded, his hips feeling suddenly cold as Steve’s hands moved back to hold his cock.

And then Bucky started to move, small movements to fuck back and forth on the tip of Steve’s cock.  He took his time acclimating Steve to the sensation of having his cock held and surrounded by tight, wet heat.  Steve was practically whimpering with the sensations, and Bucky knew that given Steve’s insecurities and inexperience, he could quickly be overwhelmed.  So, instead, he gradually took more and more of Steve’s cock, slowly easing back on it until he felt sure it wouldn’t pop free, and he gave Steve permission to let go and grab onto his hips.  Steve muttered, “Oh, thank gods,” and spread his hands over the jut of Bucky’s hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples on Bucky’s butt cheeks, fingers smoothing over the hipbones and down into the creases between hip and thigh.  Little puffs of air, “ohs” and “ahs” escaped Steve as he held himself still, pressed against the headboard, while Bucky shifted back and forth, reveling in the sensation of Steve’s dick gradually filling him up.

“How do you feel, Steve?” Bucky asked breathily, sliding back another inch.

“I-I can’t describe it,” Steve grunted, and Bucky felt him thrust forward slightly.  “You’re so … gods, you feel so good, Buck.  I never imagined – uh!”

“Relax, baby.  Let me do all the work this time, okay?  Are you ready for me to take all of you?  Just lean back against the headboard, let me take you,” Bucky told Steve, feeling Steve nod by the jiggle of his body.  “Let me hear your words, baby,” Bucky admonished again, rolling his hips and shifting backward once again.  He nearly had the entire length of Steve buried in his ass, and he could not remember another cock that made him feel this complete, this full and _right_.  He was deliberately missing his own prostate in favor of keeping his wits about himself as he moved steadily to and fro.  He lifted himself up so that he could lean back against Steve, and Steve immediately let his hands moved to stroke and caress Bucky’s abdomen and chest, slide up Bucky’s neck to turn his face into a kiss, awkward but heartfelt just the same.

Steve’s hands were warm and strong as they strokeddown Bucky’s arms, tangling their fingers together, then letting go to roam over more of Bucky’s body.  Bucky was pleased that Steve is starting to loosen up, let himself just explore and feel.  He smiled when one hand paused to tease his nipple, rolling the sensitive flesh between broad and calloused thumb and forefinger, and Bucky reached up to cover Steve’s hand with his own, murmuring, “Feels good.  I love how you touch me.”

“I can’t …” Steve started, nuzzling along Bucky’s neck, warm puffs of moist breath making Bucky’s skin tingle with want and that weird energy that kept licking through his body at odd times.  “I can’t believe I finally get to touch you,” Steve finished, breathing deep enough that Bucky could both hear and feel Steve’s indrawn breath, the expansion of his ribcage.  “You smell so _good_ , Buck!  My gods, I feel like I’m gonna lose myself in your scent.  It’s like … it’s like you’re everywhere, around me, in me, through me … it is always like this?”

Bucky knew that Steve was babbling, overwhelmed with sensation, but his comments seemed to mirror Bucky’s experiences here, too.  He pressed back against Steve, turned his head to nuzzle against Steve’s scent glands, and murmured, “It’s better with you.  I’ve never felt like this before, Stevie.  It’s like I’ve never been whole before.”

Steve whined then, a full-on loud animal cry.  He mouthed along Bucky’s shoulder, his arms tightening their hold around Bucky’s mid-section, and he started to thrust, meeting Bucky halfway with a slap of his balls against Bucky’s own sac each time.  The feel of Steve snapping his hips against Bucky, shoving his cock deep inside, brushing over his prostate every so often, the not so subtle thickening of his knot pushing against his rim, the sound of their coupling, their heightened scents mingling, and the energy spooling through him to Steve and back, a feedback loop of infinite possibilities … Bucky was quickly drunk on fucking Steve, felt his inhibitions slipping away, his control crumbling.  He wanted, he needed, more.

And evidently, so did Steve, licking and lapping at Bucky’s shoulder, dragging his teeth along the glands there, closing his mouth over them and sucking, driving Bucky wild.

And then Bucky felt it.  Steve’s teeth pressing against his scent glands.  Not just marking, but mating, the bite deepening, ready to break skin any moment.  It felt amazing, exactly what Bucky wanted, what he needed, he was ready, he was tilting his head to expose more of the sensitive flesh to Steve to bite. 

And suddenly Bucky was twisting away, pushing Steve away, leaving Bucky feeling hollow and aching, and Steve looked shocked and angry.  They were panting and heaving, nearly the whole bed separating them now.

“Bucky, what the fuck –“

“You can’t bite.  We can’t mate without a witness, Steve!  You can’t draw blood without a witness!”

“What …?  Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Steve agreed, shuffling on the bed and falling over in a heap.

“Houses won’t recognize a royal mating without a witness.”  Bucky walked up the bed again on his knees, and lowered himself so he was curled into Steve’s side.  “I love you, Steve.  You love me.  Are you ready to be mated to me?”

“Usually the alpha does the asking,” Steve chuckled, reaching to wrap his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and draw him closer.

“Think we’ve established there’s nothing usual about us, baby.  But are you?  Ready to mate with me, be my husband, my best friend, and my lover for the rest of our days together?”

“I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life, Buck,” Steve agreed, tilting Bucky’s face up for a sweet kiss.  “So what do we do now?”

“We’re gonna have to recapture the mood, get your knot up, and ring the bell.  Once Dugan’s here to witness, you can start the mating bite.”

“ _Bites_.  I want you to bite me, too.  I want us to be equals in every way.  We are equals, but I want everyone to understand that we are, Buck.”  Then he glanced down at his still erect cock, the knot ring thick and nearly ready to pop, and added, “Don’t need much to get back in the mood.  You’re so fucking sexy, and you smell so good, it’s everything I can do not to pull you back onto my cock, baby.”

Bucky looked at Steve then, earnest, serious, adamant.  And his. And blessedly horny and wanting him.  Bucky laughed joyfully.  “I want that, too.  Bites.  And your cock.  Now, we’ll need to get into a comfortable position for the knotting.”

Bucky rearranged Steve so that he was sitting comfortably against a mound of pillows, the headboard at his back.  Then he handed Steve his wine glass and nodded for him to drink.  “Hungry?”

“Later,” Steve insisted, setting the wine glass back on the bedside table.  “I have something more important to do right now,” he replied, reaching out his arms for Bucky to settle into them.  Bucky straddled Steve once again, this time guiding Steve’s cock back to his hole while Steve held it steady, and he sank down onto the entire length in one smooth glide.

“Oh fuck!” Steve swore, his eyes going wide.  “Oh gods!”

“Gods, you fill me up like no one has before, Stevie.  I was made to take your cock.  And you were made to give it to me.” 

Placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders, Bucky started bouncing in Steve’s lap, and Steve looked up at him in wonder, tears leaking down his cheeks.  His mouth worked soundlessly as Bucky fucked himself on Steve’s dick, up and down, around, grunting with pleasure, thigh muscles bulging with the effort to lift and drop, lift and drop.  Steve slid his hands under Bucky’s butt cheeks, fingers questing, squeezing, kneading.  He ran his finger around Bucky’s stretched out rim, stroking the bruised flesh there with the tip of his index finger.  Slick liberally coated his cock, slid over his knot, and down into the hair on his balls.  Steve smoothed it into the skin of Bucky’s crack, over his cheeks.  Staring into Bucky’s eyes, he  scooped up some of the slick and brought his finger out to stare at the shiny clear fluid.  Experimentally, he stuck out his tongue to taste it, and his eyes widened in surprise.

“It tastes like you smell.  Like your shoulder tastes,” he added, sticking the finger in his mouth and sucking on it.

And if Bucky wasn’t already turned on by the sight and smell of Steve, the way his dick stretched him and filled him, and by the love he felt bursting from every cell of his being … well, seeing Steve suck Bucky’s slick off his finger would have done it for him.  He surged forward and slammed his mouth against Steve’s, feeling the overpowering urge to devour him whole.

“Start thrusting up into me,” he commanded as he nibbled and bit down the expanse of Steve’s throat.  “You gotta push your knot into me, Stevie.  Mating won’t take without it.”

Steve nodded dumbly, his head lolling to one side as Bucky marked him up with lips and teeth.  He reached back down under Bucky’s ass, bent his knees and brought his feet up closer to his ass for purchase, and started rolling his hips up, meeting Bucky thrust for thrust.

Bucky screamed at the power of Steve’s thrusts, punching right into his prostate, pounding up into his ass.  He could feel the knot pressing against his hole, trying to push in.  Bucky increased the speed and force of his own thrusts downward, and within minutes, felt the knot push up into his channel, pop through, and catch on his rim, the stretch increasing as the knot expanded to full size.  Now they couldn’t be parted without injury to both of them, and Steve’s hips settled down into a gentler roll, while Bucky shifted back and forth, using the muscles of his inner walls to stimulate Steve’s cock.  Bucky leaned forward latched onto Steve’s scent glands and started sucking, running his tongue over the sensitive flesh over and over. 

“The bell, ring the bell,” he gasped against Steve’s shoulder.

The tinkling sound hardly seemed loud enough to call someone from another room, but Bucky could hear footsteps, and then the door open behind him.

“Um, I’ll get Dad,” he heard a voice say, and then the door snicked shut again, the footsteps moving away.

With an effort, Bucky lifted himself up, fucking himself slowly, and running his hands over Steve’s glistening abs and chest, reveling in the way that Steve gasped and panted still, his muscles rippling under the sheen of sweat well earned.  “Sit up, baby,” he encouraged, and helped Steve into a more upright sitting position.  “Gods, I love you,” he added, smoothing Steve’s wet hair away from his face and placing kisses on his eyelids.  “Husband.  Lover.  My best friend.”

“Mate?” Steve breathed, his eyebrows arched hopefully.

Bucky looked at him a long moment, searching for the answer he needed.  Steve’s arms circled his torso, hands moving sinuously up his back as Steve bent his face to nuzzle Bucky’s neck.  “Do you want this, Stevie?  A life with me?  Love, marriage, sex, the whole thing?” he asked, letting his own hands wander over Steve’s shoulders and back.

“A life without you isn’t worth living, Buck.  I want this.  Love, marriage, sex, partners, mates, bonded for all time,” Steve replied, moving to capture Bucky’s lips with his own again.

The door opened behind them, and he could hear Dum-Dum clear his throat.

“Prince James of House Barnes, do you consent to this mating?” Dugan said, his tone formal and serious.

Bucky lifted his head and replied over his shoulder, “I, Prince James of the House Barnes, do solemnly consent to this mating, to take Prince Steven of House Rogers as my mate, my husband, my lover, and my consort.”

“Well, I didn’t ask all that, but good for you.  You get all that, Bob?”

“Um, yes.  Mate, husband, lover, consort.  Prince James, Prince Steven, Barnes, Rogers.  Got it, yeah.”

“Goodie.  Now, Prince Steven of House Rogers, do _you_ consent to this mating?”

Steve looked up at Bucky and smiled.  “Of course I do.  I, Prince Steven of House Rogers, do solemnly consent to this mating, to take Prince James of House Barnes as my mate, my husband, my lover, and my consort.  Now and forever.”

Dugan chuckled.  “Had to one-up him, didn’t you, Rogers?  Well, as mayor of Journey’s End, I hereby witness the consent to mate by the royal princes of Houses Barnes and Rogers.  You may commence the mating bite.”

“Bites.  We’re mating each other.”

“Fine, whatever, I just need to see first blood and take a sample.”

Steve and Bucky looked into each other’s eyes once more, smiling stupidly over what they were about to do.  “On three,” Bucky suggested, and Steve nodded.  They counted off three, two, one, and then they each bit down hard on the scent glands of the other.

The skin give way under his teeth, and the first tang of copper mingled with Steve’s scent and his taste across his tongue.  That light and energy he’d felt before flooded his mouth, his mind, his body, too.  He felt a strange sense of duplication, of being in two places at once, and awe and wonder seemed to multiply and feedback at him.  Then he felt a nudge at his chin, and glanced sideways to see Dugan there with a piece of parchment.  He slid it in where Bucky had bitten Steve, and caught some of the blood on the paper, then he did the same to Bucky’s shoulder where Steve had bitten him.

Then Dugan stepped back, looking down at the parchment.  “As mayor of Journey’s End, I, Timothy Dugan, hereby recognize the mating of Prince Steven of House Rogers to Prince James of House Barnes.  May you bring each other joy, companionship, and succor in times of need.  Okay, that’s it, fuck away, boys.  Let’s go, Bob, let ‘em get on with it,” he heard Dugan say, and then the door was closed, footfalls leading away.

“Mate,” Bucky whispered, smiling.

“Mate,” Steve agreed.

Bucky realized that he could feel some kind of echo of what Steve was feeling – nervousness, excitement, arousal, need.  Smiling, he leaned in and kissed Steve.  He took Steve’s hand and wrapped it around his own cock, while he bore down on Steve’s, manipulating his muscles to massage Steve’s dick, as he rotated his hips and ground down.  Steve got the picture and started thrusting shallowly, and before long, they were both teetering on the edge, pushing each other further and further toward the precipice. 

Then quiet as a breath, Steve was suddenly cumming, his cock pulsing and his knot throbbing inside Bucky.  He felt it all, the first warm splash of cum releasing deep inside him, the steady pump of wave after wave of cum as Steve’s knot sealed them together and his body took over the command to breed.  Steve’s hand tightened on Bucky’s dick, an involuntary response to his own orgasm, and then Bucky was emptying himself all over them both. 

He slumped forward, legs like jelly on both sides of Steve’s hips.  He buried his face in Steve’s neck, lapped at the blood still trickling from the mating bite, and sighed bonelessly against the firm solidity of Steve’s body.  Steve did the same with his bite, licking up the blood, suckling softly at the bite, breathing deep Bucky’s scent, his essence.  Bucky had never felt so completely satisfied by sex as he did right then.   He felt floaty and warm, and loved beyond measure.

He felt love beyond measure, and promised himself that he would never let a day go by where Steve didn’t know just how much he loved him.

Steve pulled the covers over both of them, and settled in while nature had its way with them, his orgasm still pumping out cum into the closed confines of Bucky’s ass.

Curled around each other, still joined at the knot, Steve and Bucky fell into a deep sleep, politics and dangers forgotten in the first moments of their lives as a mated pair.

&&&

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really interesting and difficult to write, because I wanted to work out biology, mechanics, custom, and culture before I could write this scene. I also wanted to be respectful of the fact that Steve is a virgin by choice and in some ways by accident. I loved the idea of Bucky guiding him, but trying not to overwhelm him, where making love became an act of love.
> 
> Now that the boys are truly together, I'll be working on the next piece voted on by my readers. Which, unfortunately, I apparently violated the terms of service here on AO3 by posting the poll as a work. It's been taken down, along with the Phantom of the Tower Prompt Jar, which also violated the TOS. Ugh, violating the TOS was never my intention. I'll be setting up something else, outside of AO3, to capture votes and comments going forward. But in the meantime, subscribe to me to be notified of when Magic 22 and Witsec start posting.
> 
> And do let me know what you think of this chapter! Thanks so much for sticking with me!


	13. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief respite for cuddling and canoodling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had a need for a scene with cuddling and sweetness. I started work on WitSec, and it's a lot more angsty than this story is, despite the threat that Rumlow poses in this story. And I'm having kind of a rough week this week. So I needed an infusion of loving fluff, stat. Hope you enjoy!

“Do you … do you feel any different?  I mean, is it supposed to feel different.  After?” Steve asked, lifting his head from where it rested on Bucky’s shoulder.  They were sprawled naked on the bed, pink and clean from a shared bath in the miraculous Stark-fueled bathing room.  Bucky was on his back toying with Steve’s hair, Steve was curled up against his side, his fingers tracing shapes on Bucky’s ribs and side.  Around them was the devastation wrought by two men with ravenous appetites made acute by shared passion – the wine bottles were empty, and every food dish had been picked clean.  The fire in the grate still danced merrily, throwing out a continuous and comforting glow that gilded their skin with shimmering gold even as the heat held them in a comfortable bubble.

Bucky turned toward Steve then and craned slightly to kiss the tip of his nose.  “Well, I’m pleasantly sore in all the right places, pretty sure I’ve got no bones left, and I am literally basking in the afterglow.  But I could go again if that’s what you’re asking.”  Bucky stretched out luxuriously, tangling his feet with Steve’s, giggling softly.  “Only three, maybe five times.  Not a lot.  Maybe ten.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, and embarrassment and pride warred for dominance on his pinked face.  He glanced up shly at Bucky, his blue eyes screened by his long lashes.  “So … it wasn’t bad?”

Bucky jerked his head back in surprise.  “Bad?  No, it was … it was amazing, Steve.  Unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

“Yeah, but that could be good, that could be, y’know, bad.  Poor.”

Bucky pulled his fingers free of Steve’s hair, and shuffled back against the headboard.  He dislodged Steve in the process so that Steve sat up, one knee bent before him, the other leg bent behind.  He was staring at the sheets pinched between his fingers when Bucky asked, “Was it bad for you?”

Steve looked at up Bucky in shock.  “What?  No!  I mean, I was really nervous, but Buck, y’gotta know – you were so sweet, so kind.  So generous.  And it all felt … nothing like I thought it would be.  So, so much better.  I never realized there could be so much … so much pleasure.  _So much._   Is it always like that?”

Bucky smiled then, soft, gentle, loving.  “Like I said, I’ve never felt anything like it.  For a while there, it was like … it was like I could feel what you felt.  Emotionally.  Physically.  It was like we shared not only the experience, but the same sensations. Ah, I’m not explaining it right –“

“No, Bucky, I get it.  I felt the same thing.  Like … like our souls were bonded as much as our bodies were.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully.  “Yeah, yeah, that’s what it felt like.  But we didn’t choose to soul bond.  And we wouldn’t be able to do it without …”

“A mage,” Steve replied flatly, his eyes lifting to capture Bucky’s.

“A mage like Wanda,” Bucky breathed, took Steve’s hand in his, and rubbed his thumb over the soft, warm skin of Steve’s knuckles.

“A mage like Wanda who could find her brother regardless of the miles that separated them.”

“And could influence someone she didn’t even know to help him.  Somehow she found Trip, recognized him as a friendly player, and made him help Pietro.”

“Clint, Trip, and Pietro should’ve made it back to Odinson already.  Maybe Wanda met them there.”

“She probably did.  She often rides out to meet Pietro when he’s coming back from a mission.  I was surprised she didn’t ask to ride with us, to be honest,” Bucky answered, brow furrowed, twisting his hand to thread his fingers together with Steve’s.

“But you don’t think …?”

“If somehow she influenced our mating … it’s an invasion of privacy, a violation of her oath to House Barnes –“

“Would you want it? If we did?”

Bucky sat there for a long moment, staring into Steve’s eyes and considering the question.  “I love you,” he said simply.  “And I think we’ve laid to rest the question of a physical relationship between us.  Haven’t we?”

Steve nodded solemnly, reached out and cradled Bucky’s cheek in his palm.  “I don’t want to be separated from you.  Not for a minute.  I don’t know how I’m going to say goodbye at the border.”

“It’ll only be for a few days at most.  Til we rendezvous at Odinson.  And if Wanda is still there, she and I are going to have a conversation.”

“A soul bond wouldn’t work if we weren’t compatible.  If our souls didn’t fit each other,” Steve said then, his voice carrying a plaintive tone.

“I’ll grant you that Wanda may have sensed that, if that’s what happened.  If we are … bound.  But that’s something she should have asked about.  If she did seal the bond.”

“If.  How can we tell?”

Bucky shrugged then.  “I don’t feel any different right now.  Maybe it was just an side effect of spectacularly good sex and a successful mating.  Maybe because we mated each other as equals.  I don’t know.”

“When this is all over, we go away.  For a proper honeymoon.  And I’ll spend weeks worshipping you with everything I have – my lips, my hands, my body,” Steve told him seriously.

“You could do that now, you know.  I’m serious about having a few more in the tank.  We could go a few rounds.  You don’t have to pop your knot until you’re ready.”

“I … I don’t know how to do that.  Control it.  I really don’t know much about how everything works, sexually, I mean, the nuances …”

“Then, baby, the best thing is practice.  And I will be happy to practice with you.  After all, what are husbands for?” 

“I dunno.  Never had a husband before.  Kind of like the idea, y’know?  But are you sure we can spare the time –“

“Steve, you’re the one who wanted to mate before we parted.  And if Wanda really did trigger a soul bond?  Pretty sure we owe it to ourselves to test it before we part.  And besides – Dugan’s taking care of mobilizing the other Houses at this end of the Park.  We get married, have another night for a honeymoon, and then,” he sighed heavily, “then we ride for Rogers and Carter.  But we have tonight and tomorrow night for us.”

Steve was silent as he studied Bucky’s face, and then finally he leaned in and brushed his lips over Bucky’s.  “I love you.  Now … why don’t you show me what you want me to practice, hmmm?”  Bucky grinned, flung his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and pulled them both down to the bed, kissing all the way.

&&&

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the continued support for this story! I appreciate the kudos, comments, bookmarks, and hits.

**Author's Note:**

> My love of fake boyfriend stories knows no bounds. Seriously, I've got another one brewing as well. It's fun to find a different take on the genre, too. Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I sat down to sketch out a synopsis, and the next thing i knew, I had over 1,500 words written already.
> 
> Whaddya think?
> 
> And have you figured out where the chapter titles come from yet? The chapter titles are song titles from the Arthurian musical _Camelot_. I just had this idea, looked up the track list, and saw that the titles worked for where I hoped to take the story. And in November 2017, I discovered more song titles, from different versions of the play.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I've created a FAQ post on my Tumblr, to answer questions posed here, on IG, on Tumblr, etc. Check it out! And hey, feel free to follow me - I post lots of pictures of stuff, including bits and pieces from my Stucky Museum (my house). And cats. I am owned by cats.
> 
> Anyway, check out my [FAQ](http://debwalsh.tumblr.com/post/172159304647/debfaq-you-got-questions-i-got-answers) and bookmark it - I'll be updating it periodically with responses to questions about my fic, my art, my other fannish activities.


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